All it took was once I'll never be the same
by LovelyLonelyWriterGirl
Summary: Kurt started cutting in freshman year after he just couldn't handle any more of the bullying. Cuts are temporary. They'll heal soon enough, even if he won't. No harm done, right? Two years later, he gets caught and Burt sends him away to rehab, where he meets Blaine. And he may just find a reason to get better. Klaine. Warning: Self-harm, possible eating disorders later
1. Chapter 1

Kurt had never felt quite happy with who he is. Mentally, he was above average, so he was usually satisfied with his intellectual capability. He was, of course, the best in his french class, and even the teacher had to admit that he knew far more than anyone else. It must be, be reasoned, his innate ability to absorb what he was told.

That might be why he so easily believed the insults that were thrown his way.

"Fag" and "Fairy" were his compliments on Monday. Tuesday was "faggot," accompanied by a large blue slushie. Wednesday was "homo" and "princess", followed by a red slushie on Thursday, in addition to a particularly hard shove into the lockers.

By the time Friday rolled around, Kurt had been pretty fucking sick of McKinley High. Sick of high school, and sick if his life. His father didn't know what to do with him, since they couldn't bond over sports or girls. Luckily for Burt, Finn now had that role. Carole was always very sweet, but she just wasn't his mother, and she never would be. Kurt knew he had a decent home life. He had no excuse for feeling so sad. _Pathetic_. So, that night, once he got home from school, he slammed his backpack down on the table and rushed upstairs. He quickly got out his laptop and set it on the bed, not caring about the open door because no one else was home. Burt was working late at the tire shop, and Carol was still at the hospital. Fingers moving furiously, Kurt typed into the google search bar.

**ways to cope with emotional pain**

Because that's what he figured it was. When he really got down to it, at the end of the day, it wasn't the bruises or the cold slushies that mattered- it was how he felt.

He was constantly on the lookout, terrified that the jocks would be waiting around every corner, ready to hit him or throw him in a dumpster as they had the previous week.

And the week before.

And the week before.

And the week before that.

The stress was killing him.

Not only that, but he also began to believe the insults they threw at him. He knew they were pathetic and not very creative, but it was hard to hold that mindset after months and months of hearing about how worthless he was, how pathetic, how disgusting.

Maybe they were right, Kurt reasoned. No one ever told him otherwise; at least not since his mom , he even believed that her death was his punishment for being gay.

Kurt glanced at the page of results.

**How to Cope with Emotional Pain** on Wikihow.

Kurt clicked on it, but quickly hit the back button when he realized that it was full of worthless tips about "finding yourself" and "talking to others about it". _Screw them, whoever wrote the ariticl_e, Kurt thought bitterly. They obviously had never been through anything worse than a breakup.

He looked at the next result. It was similar.

**self esteem and heartbreak. positive thinking. How to Cope with the Loss of a Loved One.**

(Kurt couldn't bear to click on that one.)

Diligently, he scrolled through all of the pages.

When he got to the eleventh page of results, he saw a question on yahoo answers. Ready to give up, he clicked on it with a sense of defeat; after all, if the last ten and a half pagers hadn't yielded any results, why would this one?

The question was asked by someone named "Lizzie_is_blonde355", and it was the same exact question he was searching for.

**"How do I cope with emotional pain?"**

**_Cause my life just really sucks and I have no friends and everybody teases me and stuff... Any ideas guys?_**

This girl seemed to be in exactly his situation. Filled with a new sense of hope, Kurt scrolled through all eight of the best answer, which had been chosen by voters, was something stupid like "stay true to yourself" as well as "it gets better, honey."

Kurt rolled his eyes at that.

But one answer, posted by breathing&dying236, caught his attention.

**_"im sorry to hear that. u could always cut urself, it makes me feel better. good luck."_**

Kurt stared at the screen. Of course, why hadn't he thought of it before? Tons of kids did it, right? Anyways, this answer seemed much more honest than the rest of them.

Once couldn't hurt.

He dug around in his art supplies until he found an exacto knife. His hands shook as he slid off the cover, sitting down on his bed. He pressed the sharp silver edge into his left arm.

He marveled at the feeling of pain that washed over him.

He only cut twice, and it wasn't very deep. It would heal in a few days anyway. No harm done, right?

That had been freshman year.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wednesday May 6th, Junior Year, McKinley High**

Kurt sighed, placing his head in his hands and staring down at the desk. What was he looking for? Honestly, it was as though he expected a solution to magically etch itself into the laminated, not-really-wood surface of the desk. He had a five-page AP World History essay due on Friday and and no time to do it.

Mercedes leaned over and tapped him gently. "You okay, honey?" She inquired, trying to make eye contact. Kurt only looked away. "Fine," he muttered softly, his usual answer.

"No, Kurt, you're not," she said, and he can tell from the tone of her voice that there is no convincing her.

Kurt sighed, lifting his head out if his hands and shifting to face her. The way her head was tilted, her eyes wide, she looked like a sad puppy.

"You been cutting again?" She whispered, and Kurt's eyes went wide. "Shhh!" He whispered frantically, immediately tensing up. He glanced around, making sure no one was listening.

"Yes," he whispered finally, so quiet it was barely audible. But Mercedes heard.

"Oh, Boo," she said, squeezing his shoulder. "I'm worried about you."

Kurt shrugged. "I'm fine, so long as no one tells." He glared pointedly at his best friend.

"I won't tell," she assured him, reading the look on his face. "They aren't deep, right?"

"No," Kurt said. He felt bad about lying to her, but what can he say? It's not like she really wants to know anyway. The blood, the tears and the scars don't exactly make for casual conversation. What Mercedes doesn't know won't hurt her.

"I won't do it again," He lied, offering Mercedes what he hoped appeared to be a genuine smile. Kurt was pleased when she seemed to buy it, smiling at him kindly in return and turning back to face the teacher.

No one can see the pain that seethes just beneath the surface.

Mission accomplished.

**Mercedes**

She didn't believe it, not for a second. Kurt was cutting again

-had he really ever stopped?-

And he needed help.

She just wasn't sure if she could bring herself to report him. He trusted her, after all. But this had gone on for too long, and Kurt clearly needed help. She believed in always staying loyal to her friends. But could she really keep this big a secret, when his safety was at stake?

She already knew the answer.

Of course not.

"He's WHAT?" Rachel exclaimed, her eyes growing wide. Her expression would have been comical if not for the serious situation.

Mercedes nodded.

"Oh, my." Rachel said, seeming to be at a loss for words.

"Since freshman year, or so he claims," Mercedes continued. "Someone needs to know. I thought he stopped for a while, but when he just flat out admitted it, after I asked him... It's like he doesn't even realize how dangerous it is. He only wants to make sure he doesn't get caught. Oh, God, Rach, he's gonna hate me for this."

Rachel nodded seriously, hanging on to her friend's every word. "He may," she told Mercedes sadly, "But he'll thank you later, once he gets better. You're being a good friend."

Mercedes smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks, Rach," she said. "But I need to ask you a favor. Will you come with me?"

Rachel nodded immediately. "Of course I will. He's my friend, too. We'll do this together."


	3. Chapter 3

**Mercedes**

"I feel so horrible for not noticing," Rachel said as they walked through the empty halls to the guidance counselor's office. They had both gotten passes to leave study hall with out drawing too much attention; it was rare that someone would pay the guidance counselor a visit. They didn't want Kurt or any of the other New Directions to ask what they were doing. "It really would be hard to tell, though," Rachel continued. "What with all of the fancy layered outfits he wears. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen him wearing short sleeves."

Mercedes nodded in agreement.

"I mean. If, if I had known before, I would've _done_ something... I should have let him have more solos in Glee club." Rachel rambled on, clearly upset.

"It's not your fault, no one could've known. He worked very hard to hide it. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. He told me four months ago and I didn't say anything. He told me he had stopped. And I _believed_ him!"

Both girls were silent for a moment as they approached the door to Ms. Pillsbury's office.

"Well," Rachel said grimly, "We're doing something about it now."

And with that, she pulled open the door to Miss Pillsbury's, Mercedes following her inside.

"Oh, hello, girls!" Ms. Pillsbury exclaimed, spinning around from her computer to face them. Mercedes frowned. What was that Miss Pillsbury had been working on? _Oh, wow_, she thought as she realized what it was. It was a template for one of her ridiculous brochures. That woman had a friggin' template!

"How can I help you?" The cheery redhead asked.

"We're here about our friend, Kurt Hummel," Rachel began, glancing over at Mercedes. "Well, she knows more than I do."

"Sit down," Miss Pillsbury told them kindly. "Mercedes couldn't help but roll her eyes as the woman spread an array of brochures across the desk. "So, Mercedes, what's going on with Kurt?"

"Well," Mercedes paused, not really sure where to begin. Rachel nodded at her encouragingly.

"Well, you see, Miss Pillsbury, it appears that Kurt's been... Cutting himself."

Miss Pillsbury's already impossibly round eyes got even rounder.

"Oh, my," she said, echoing Rachel's thoughts from before. "I see. Well, it's very brave of you girls to come and tell me. How long do you think this has been going on?"

"About two or three years," Rachel put in.

Miss Pillsbury nodded seriously. "Okay, well, thank you for telling me. I'll call his father right away. Can you send him down here for me? It'll probably be less embarrassing than if I do it over the PA system."

"Sure thing, Miss Pillsbury," Mercedes said.

She and Rachel stood up and exited the office, glad that Kurt would soon be getting help.

* * *

**Kurt**

Kurt looked up from his french homework after hearing the sound of a door shutting. He saw Mercedes and Rachel walking in, looking extremely embarrassed and uncomfortable.

He raised his eyebrows, watching as they walked towards him.

"Um, hey, Kurt," Mercedes began, looking at him nervously. "Miss Pillsbury wants to see you in her office." She watched Kurt as though waiting for a reaction. Kurt was confused. Had something happened to his dad? Carole? Oh, God, he hoped it wasn't another heart attack. From the look on Rachel's face, it must be pretty bad. Then again, she did tend to be over-dramatic, but Mercedes looked pretty grim, too.

He nodded, not bothering to look at his friends as he picked his books up and headed for the door. He practically ran through the hallway toward the guidance counselor's office, where his was sure Miss Pillsbury would be waiting with terrible news. Various scenarios and possibilities ran through his mind, and he was so worried that he didn't notice where he was until he had walked two doors past her office. He backtracked a few steps, stopping at the door and placing his hand on the handle. Taking a deep breath and steeling himself for the worst, he went inside.

* * *

**LOL sorry to torture you guys with suspense! The next chapter will be up tomorrow, though, so no worries :) ****Reviews would be awesome, if possible... And feel free to make any suggestions, and constructive criticism only please! I'm trying my best. I promise to update as frequently as possible, and sorry they're so short!**

**Thank you!**

**;) Luna**


	4. Chapter 4

"Hello, Kurt," Miss Pillsbury said as he walked into the office. He thought he detected something different than usual in her voice- was it concern, perhaps? Or maybe sympathy? Kurt couldn't tell.

"You can shut the door," she told him, breaking him out of his reverie. Kurt did so, setting his books on the couch and sitting in the chair in front of her desk.

"What's wrong?" He asked, pulling his sleeves down farther, even though they were long enough to cover his scarred wrists. It was a nervous habit he had developed out of fear of being caught. "Is it my dad?" He asked abruptly, wanting to get straight to the point.

"No, it isn't any of your family," Miss Pillsbury told him. "Although I do need to call them." Kurt was confused. Call them? Why?

"Kurt, it has been brought to my attention that you may be self harming. Cutting yourself. Is that true?" Miss Pillsbury asked as gently as she could. Kurt inhaled sharply, fear coursing through his body. He gripped the arms of the chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"It's okay if you need some time," she told him kindly. She gave him a few seconds, then asked again. "Kurt, have you or haven't you been cutting? Don't worry, you're not in any trouble," she added. "I just need to know."

Kurt appeared to be having a panic attack. He was hyperventilating, and his mind was racing. _Stupid woman, what does she know? They can't prove anything. Of course I'll be in trouble. Oh god, my dad is gonna kill me... They're gonna lock me up and give me pills and force me to stop. I'm not doing any permant damage..._

"I'm not suicidal!" He shouted suddenly, startling Miss Pillsbury. "Okay," she nodded after collecting herself. "That's good to know, Kurt. Anything else you want me to know?" He shook his head vigorously, eyes darting around the room. He looked at the desk, at the floor, at his lap, anything to avoid looking at her.

"Kurt, honey, don't worry. We're going to help you get better. Kurt," she said again, and he finally looked up at her, eyes both terrified and furious at the same time. He finally nodded, and she turned over to the wall behind her, grabbing the school phone. Kurt sat there in a state of numbness, unable to feel anything else. He listened dazedly as she called Burt, only catching snatches of the conversation.

"No, no, no one beat him up... He's fine for the moment... I can explain it better if you come down to the school. Okay, if you insist.. He's been self-harming, Mr. Hummel." Then Burt's voice, so loudly he can hear it through the phone:

"He's been WHAT?! Are you sure you got the right kid? Kurt wouldn't do that..."

Kurt flinched at the sound of his father shouting. Luckily, he didn't sound angry, more distressed than anything else. "Okay," Miss Pillsbury said. "He's here, in my office. Thank you... See you in a few minutes."

She hung up, looking up at Kurt. "Do you want to go get your things, sweetie? You're probably going to go straight home; it's already two o'clock." Kurt shook his head. "My stuff's mostly packed, anyway." he told her. "I can grab it on my way out."

"Okay," Miss Pillsbury nodded, smiling at him. "Now, Kurt, you have two options here. You can either tell me more, and I'll talk to your dad about it, or you can tell both of us once he gets here. Does either one appeal to you?" "No," Kurt said, and Miss Pillsbury laughed a little. "But I guess I'll have you tell him." Kurt added.

"Alright," the redheaded woman replied. "So, Kurt, when did you first start... Self-harming?" She asked. Kurt couldn't help but roll his eyes. She was clearly trying to avoid using the word 'cutting', opting instead for the more medical term. Why couldn't she just say it? It wasn't like it was really a big deal. He had been doing it for years and he was fine, absolutely fine. It gave him control and stability. He was clever for figuring out how to provide those for himself!

"Freshman year," he told her tonelessly. She nodded, happy that he was cooperating. "And why do you think you started? Was it trouble with grades? Friends? Girlfriend?"

Kurt laughed bitterly. "I'm gay," he told her bluntly; what did it matter? She already thought he was crazy. "Okay," she nodded. "So, you started cutting because you are gay."

"No," Kurt exclaimed, shaking his head. "I _am_ gay, always will be, but I started cutting because of the bullying. You know, it's so messed up, how you pretend to care, but none of the teachers ever seemed to notice when I was pushed into a locker, or get a slushie thrown in my face..." He trailed off angrily. Miss Pillsbury seemed startled by his accusatory tone.

"Well, Kurt, you could have always come and talked to me," she said awkwardly, appearing unsure of how to respond. He was right, naturally; she never really left her office. How would she have noticed if he was being bullied? She usually heard everything through Will, but he hasn't ever mentioned it. Were they really that oblivious?

Okay," she said, re-focusing on Kurt. "So they were verbally and physically abusing you. How did that make you feel?" She pressed.

Kurt shrugged nonchalantly. "What do you think? It sucked. It still does. No one should ever have to feel this worthless."

"You're right, Kurt," she said simply. "So, how does self-harming make you feel?"

"Like I have control," Kurt said without any hesitation. "No matter what they do to me, they can't take that away. It's... Satisfying, I suppose, to be in control. I mean, at least I can feel something..." He stopped himself, feeling as though he was revealing too much. This was, after all, deeply personal. He had only ever confided in one person...

_Oh, shit_. He suddenly realized why he was being questioned in he first place. _That_ was why Mercedes had been the one to send him down to the office. He had figured she was just relaying a message... She had told. Her and Rachel both, they had come and reported him. Traitors. They were supposed to be on his side. Maybe he hadn't been as convincing as he thought. Damn it, could he do ANYTHING right? He needed to cut when he got home, needed to forget how much he had fucked up. I punish himself for it. That was, if he was even going home.

He was startled when he heard the sound of the door opening. Burt walked in, looking like he clearly didn't belong there.

"Hi, Miss... Pillsbury. Sorry I'm late... Got held up at the shop..." He trailed off awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Miss Pillsbury nodded, motioning for him to close the door. "Have a seat, Mr. Hummel." Burt pulled a chair over to sit next to his son. Kurt flinched and looked away.

"Well, Mr. Hummel," she began, trying to fill the silence. "Kurt has requested that I tell you about the situation; he doesn't feel comfortable talking about it with you here." Burt frowned. "He's my kid, he should be comfortable tellin' me what's going on! How could you do this, Kurt?" He asked, turning toward his son. Kurt wished he could disappear through the floor.

"Sorry, Dad," he muttered, not making eye contact. "This has been going on for over two years?" Burt inquired, seeming reluctant to hear the answer. Kurt didn't say anything, so Miss Pillsbury stepped in. "Yes, since freshman year," she told him."Why?" He asked her, realizing that Kurt wouldn't be very responsive. "He says that he was -is- being bullied, apparently because of his sexuality."

Burt nodded, he knew that Kurt wasn't very popular because of it, but he thought Kurt had been doing better since he joined Glee club. "And no one noticed?!" He asked the counselor incredulously. She shook her head. Burt only sighed. "Well, what's done is done. Have you seen the... y'know... Cuts?" he asked. Miss Pillsbury shook her head. "We don't want to invade kids' privacy, so we aren't required to check. Kurt more or less confirmed it, though. You're welcome to check, you are his father after all, but I doubt he will let you."

Kurt looked up, sick of being ignored. "I am here, you know!" He yelled, startling both his father and the counselor. "You wanna see? Fine!" He shouted, rolling up his sleeves.

He heard his father gasp, something which Burt rarely did. He looked down at his arms as well. Sure, he saw them when he was showering or cutting or getting dressed, but it had been a while since he really LOOKED at them, considered all the scars and marks. He now absorbed the full effects of what he had done over the years. Some of the more shallow scars had disappeared, but others stood out, white and pink against his pale skin.

He understood his father's shock to a certain extent; there WERE a lot of scars there. But, no, he countered himself, his father was probably disgusted with how ugly he was. Without realizing what he was doing, he reached over with his right hand, digging his perfectly shaped nails into his left arm. He smiled, closing his eyes as he felt the slight rush of pain that flooded through him.

Quickly realizing what he was doing, his eyes flew open and he immediately yanked his sleeve back down. It was too late. The identical expressions of shock on both Burt's and Miss Pillsbury's faces stated what he already knew. They were sickened by him.

**Burt**

"That's it, buddy," Burt said after a short time, his voice cracking slightly. He couldn't bear to see Kurt not only hurting himself, but _enjoying_ it. Thinking that beig bullied somehow warranted this. Where was the logic? There wasn't any, Burt realized. Kurt was mentally ill, and had been for quite some time.

"This is worse than I imagined, Kurt. You need professional help, right away. I'm not letting you do THAT-" his voice cracked again, unable to say the word. He wouldn't have been able to believe it if he hasn't seen it for himself. And some of those cuts were fresh, having been made maybe as recently as yesterday. He had failed as a father. If only Elizabeth were here, this wouldn't have happened. He made up his mind.

No matter how much he fought it, Kurt was going to go to a treatment facility. Burt hated the idea himself, but this problem was too big to be fixed with weekly therapy sessions.

"Thank you for your time," he told Miss Pillsbury. "Come on Kurt, we're going home."

Kurt stayed silent as he followed his father out of the office.

* * *

**Ahh! I feel bad for doing this to Kurt, he's pretty upset :( **

**And obviously they aren't really disgusted by him or anything, that's just how he sees it. **

**But hey, he has to meet Blaine somehow! This will have a happy ending. :)**

**Reviews are lovely!**

**- Luna**


	5. Chapter 5

The car ride home was impossibly silent, and Kurt was grateful for the peace, no matter how fleeting it may be. Burt didn't appear angry; rather, he seemed to be deep in thought.

They walked into the house together, and were greeted by an extremely anxious Carole and a somewhat concerned Finn. (But not so concerned that he couldn't still play Call of Duty and shovel in Doritos).

"Where have you been?!" She demanded worriedly as soon as they stepped in the door. Burt gave her a look that clearly said "I'll explain later." Kurt walked past without making eye contact, knowing that she would know immediately that something had happened. Well, had been happening, for the last few years.

Kurt started up the stairs to his room, more out of habit than anything else really, but Burt immediately stopped him."I don't think so, buddy," he said firmly. "I'm never letting you hurt yourself again. You can either play with your brother or sit on the couch and do your homework. Your choice." He then motioned for Carol to follow him upstairs where they could talk without the boys eavesdropping.

Kurt opted to do his homework on the couch, and he noticed how Finn kept casting him quick sideways glances whenever he assumed Kurt wasn't looking. He was mildly irritated, but forced himself to focus.

* * *

There was an air of forced normalcy about the house, once the adults returned downstairs, and he found it deeply unsettling. It was like the calm before the storm- and all he could do was wait for the inevitable to happen.

The suggestion came after dinner, which was shortly after Burt very pointedly suggested that Finn go over to Rachel's for the evening, to which he was more than happy to oblige. He didn't seem confused about it, either, which made Kurt believe that they had already filled him in while he was taking a shower. (In the downstairs bathroom, of course, where there weren't any razors.)

This was ridiculous. He didn't even cut with razors- he hadn't been shaving when he first began cutting and barely needed to now; missing razors would be noticed. His preferred utensil was either an exacto knife (came in handy for scrapbooking as well) or nail clippers (readily available and not at all suspicious.)

His father sat him down in the living room, abandoning all pretense that this was something other than a major intervention. Carol came and sat down next to Burt. That had probably been planned as well- Burt knew full well that there was no way Kurt would put up a fight with Carol in the room. The former sat in an armchair opposite his father, waiting to be given his sentence.

"Kurt-" Burt began.

"I know, I know," Kurt said, cutting his father off. "I'm messed up."

"No," his father corrected him. "You're not messed up, however you are struggling to cope with everyday life. We need a solution here, and from my, our-" he reached out to grab Carole's hand- "point of view, the only way to really help you is to send you away. Now, I know you don't want that," he said, raising a hand to stop Kurt from protesting. "We don't want it either- well, we wouldn't if it wasn't the absolute best thing we could do to help you get better."

"I'm not sick!" Kurt blurted out indignantly. "I'm still your son, and I'm just he same as I was yesterday!"

"I know," his father replied. And I don't mean 'you're sick' as in 'you're crazy,' I mean it as in you're hurting yourself and we want you not to feel that way anymore."

Kurt stared ahead blankly. "So, where are you sending me? I don't recall there being an asylum in Lima."

Burt gave him an annoyed look.

"We're not sending you to an _asylum_," Burt explained, "it's a treatment facility for mentally troubled teens. And who knows? You might even make some friends."

The look on his father's face plainly told him that this was not up for debate. "It's called The Lehman Center for Teens for something like that," he continued. "We're leaving in the morning, and you're sleeping in the guest bedroom, where you can't hurt yourself. You have the rest of the night to pack, and Carole," he put emphasis on her name, "Will be checking your suitcase once you're finished."

Satisfied that he had explained everything, Burt stood up and exited the room.

"We're on your side, sweetie," Carole whispered as she followed him out of the room. "I promise."

* * *

**Hello there! Sorry I didn't update yesterday, I've been super busy with final exams and stuff! I'm having a little harder of a time with this next chapter, but it should be up on Saturday at the absolute latest. Reviews make me want to update sooner, you know!**

**-Luna **


	6. Chapter 6

Burt parked the car in the loading zone at the main entrance of the building_. The loading zone_, Kurt thought to himself bitterly. It looked like Burt would be getting rid of him as soon as possible. Grabbing his suitcase as lifting it out of the trunk, he followed his father reluctantly up the short walkway.

As they entered the lobby, Kurt was blown away by how well-decorated the place was. Everything was mocha, beige or cream colored. A tall plant stood in the corner. There was a glass coffee table surrounded by cushy armchairs._ This place must cost a fortune_, he thought to himself. For hell, it sure was stylish.

He stood there with his bags, staying a few feet behind Burt while he checked Kurt in. It was almost like a hotel.

But it wasn't.  
"You're all set, Buddy," Burt said shortly, motioning for Kurt to walk over. "We'll all stop by this weekend to see how you're doing. And you can always call if you need us."  
Kurt nodded mutely.

"Hi, Kurt, pleased to meet you!" said a cheerful brunette woman from behind the desk. She stepped out to greet him as Burt left. "My name is Jo, and I'll escort you to your room if you'd like."  
"Oh, no thank you," Kurt said automatically.  
Jo frowned. "Well, I really do need to escort you to your room." She said, quickly putting on a cheerful smile. "It's our policy. Follow me," she said in a tone of forced politeness.  
Kurt sighed, nodded, and picked up his bags. He then followed her into a hallway.

Kurt couldn't help but notice that upon first glance the place could pass as a fancy hotel, but further inspection proved that it was designed for crazies. The doors, for example, all required a key worn on one of the staff's lanyards. In addition, they also had a many-digit security code. _I guess they aren't taking any chances_, Kurt thought.

Patients must have a pretty good reason for trying to escape, if that was why there was a code. Who knows? Maybe he was about to be locked in a dungeon and left for dead.

They made a left past some elevators. "This is the patients' lounge," Jo explained, gesturing toward a doorless room on the left. "And there's a game room attached to it, if you're into that sort of thing." She smiled brightly.

"No, not really," Kurt mumbled softly.  
She appeared not to have heard him.

They passed another, cozy- looking room, this time on the left side of the hallway. Jo explained that it was the library. Kurt peered in, curiously examining the people inside. None of them were sitting together. There were only three; a short blonde girl who was seated at a computer, a tall African American boy with spiky hair, and a boy with hazel eyes and the curliest hair Kurt had ever seen. He was sitting on an oversized beanbag chair next to a bookshelf, reading a hardcover book of which Kurt couldn't discern the title.

The boy looked up immediately, making eye contact with Kurt and smiling slightly as he did so. Kurt didn't smile back. This boy was probably not right in the head.

"Now, now," Jo said sternly. "There will be plenty of time for socializing later." With a clipped smile, she grabbed Kurt by the shoulders and steered him down the hallway.

"I can walk by myself, thanks," Kurt said firmly, giving her his best bitch face. She ignored him, smile remaining firmly in place. They ascended a flight of stairs onto a carpeted second floor. There were no windows, Kurt observed. Probably to keep suicidal people from jumping. Suicidal was crazy, and he was most certainly not.

The hallway veered off to the right, but she led him down straight until the hallway ended in a sort of large square. There were two doors in the left wall, two in the right and three in the wall in front of them. "This is where you'll be staying," Jo said cheerily, leading him to the middle door on the far side of the hallway.

_Oh, great_, Kurt thought sarcastically. With his luck, he would be in between two lunatics who screamed and banged on the walls half the night. Jo unlocked the door and then fished a key out of her pocket for him. It was bright orange. "Here is the key to your room," she told him, handing it over. "And it only works on your door, so don't even bother with any funny business."

And with that, she turned around and marched back down the hall.  
Kurt stepped into the room, wheeling his suitcase in behind him. The room was a decent size, about the same as his bedroom at home, and was painted a very light shade of yellow. Kurt sighed as he strode over to the bed. _This is_ _home_ _now_, he thought miserably.

Although the room was nice, with dark wood furniture, modern décor and a soft- looking cream colored armchair in the corner, it wasn't his bedroom. And the bed was in the complete wrong place for Kurt's taste.

He then remembered what he had packed for himself.  
Smirking a little at the absolute rebelliousness of his plan, he unzipped his suitcase.  
He pulled out a cylindrical cardboard container, popped the end off and gently pulled out his _Wicked_ poster.  
In a very devious, cunning and ninja-like manner, Kurt Hummel redecorated his new room.

* * *

**OMG you guys! Blaine sighting! Haha lol. Don't worry, Blaine is completely "right in the head", probably more so than Kurt. And yes, feel free to hate Jo. She's extremely annoying. **

**So sorry I updated later than promised. I found a really awesome fanfic that I've been reading non-stop for the past few days. I'm also preparing to move, and packing up all my stuff is a challenge. **

**Anyways, I'm home all day tomorrow, so you can expect a chapter to make up for the long wait last time. :( sorry again! **

**Review, review, review. Pretty please? It makes me feel appreciated. ;)**

**- Luna **


	7. Chapter 7

After he had successfully moved his bed, desk, and taken inventory of the soaps and sharp edges in the bathroom, Kurt figured he couldn't be reclusive forever. Someone would probably come around eventually, and he didn't want to get in trouble on his first day.

Oh god. He sounded like a little boy on his first day of Kindergarten. Shaking his head, he got up and strode out of his room. He went down the hall, remembering the way to the two rooms Jo had shown him.

He walked past the library and peeked into the lounge. There were far too many people for Kurt's liking, so he backtracked a few steps, tentatively entering the library. Looking around, he saw that the tall boy and the blond girl had left. One person remained, however. Kurt sighed. _Well, it's my lucky day, isn't it_? He thought irritably. He looked at the boy with the curly hair. He seemed smaller than Kurt. He probably wouldn't try to hit him.

Maybe the boy wouldn't talk to him. Maybe he would finish his book and leave. Maybe this would be one of the most awkward encounters of Kurt's life so far. Kurt walked toward the other side of the room, attempting to look casual, but his entire plan soon went out the window.

"Hi," the boy said pleasantly.

Kurt froze. Should he make a run for it and go deal with the people in the lounge? Should he pretend to be deaf? No, that was a stupid idea. He decided to stall while he formulated his escape plan.

"Um, hi," Kurt replied cautiously. He wondered if this boy heard voices, or perhaps he was a homicidal maniac who liked to kill fluffy puppies.

The boy grinned widely. "You're new," he said simply.

"How do you know?" Kurt questioned.

"Because I would have noticed you before," the boy said simply.

_Okay, Kurt, come up with a plan._

But Kurt had nothing.

He screwed everything up. He should've had a backup plan for the cutting, an alibi. Shouldn't have told Mercedes. Should've slipped in some nail clippers after Carole checked his suitcase.

"Sorry if I look too queer to blend in with the crowd," Kurt said bitterly.

The boy raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You don't," he answered quietly, looking as through this was a very surprising piece of information.

Kurt didn't respond. How do you talk to someone who's crazy? Well, Kurt had fucked up and gotten himself thrown in here. Maybe they were both crazy.

"Do I look crazy to you?" Kurt asked before he could stop himself. The boy laughed. His laugh sounded amazing. "No," he said with a smile. "Do _I_ look crazy to _you_?"

Kurt couldn't help but smile back. "I'm still trying to decide, but no, not yet." The boy extended his hand. "My name's Blaine."

"Kurt," Kurt said, shaking hands with the boy. He really was very good looking. He wore dark jeans, the kind that were not dirty or ripped. Kurt approved. He also wore red converse shoes, and a gray t-shirt with some design on it. Oh my _god_, was that-?

It was.

The boy was wearing an Avenue Q t-shirt. Kurt burst into a fit of laughter. Avenue Q. As in one of the gayest musicals on Broadway. As in, this boy had a _souvenir T-shirt_ from a musical.

Kurt looked down at Blaine, who appeared confused. "Why are you laughing?" He asked. Kurt smirked, barely able to contain his laughter.

Instead of answering, he dragged a beanbag chair over to where Blaine was sitting. "I think your shirt is awesome," Kurt began.

The boy smiled. "Thanks," he said. "I saw it a few months ago. Do you like Broadway?"

Kurt smiled. "You have no idea. I take it you're gay, then? Sorry if I'm wrong." Blaine nodded in confirmation. Kurt beamed. "You totally have to come to my bedroom. You'll love it."

Blaine's eyes widened. Kurt laughed even harder than before. He couldn't even remember the last time he had really laughed. "Oh my god, let me rephrase that. I did some redecorating as soon as I got here. It's kind of Broadway-themed. I just thought you might wanna see it?" Blaine laughed at this, too. "Oh, okay. Thank god. I thought that you were coming on to me or something."

Kurt rolled his eyes, giving him his best _bitch, please_ look. "You _are_ crazy, I changed my mind." Kurt gave Blaine a hand up, and they walked out of the library and toward the stairs. "So, um, I don't know if it's rude to ask, but why are you here? I mean, you seem pretty normal to me." Blaine smiled. "Don't worry, you aren't overstepping or anything." He assured the taller boy. "I have OCD. It's not nearly as bad as it was when I got here." Kurt frowned, searching his mind for knowledge of what OCD entailed. He didn't come up with much. Balaniferous seemed to be acting normally, but Kurt noticed that he cracked his wrist every few seconds. He also rubbed his thumb nail against the first joint of his middle finger occasionally. It wasn't even noticeable unless you were really looking.

"Freaked out yet?" Blaine asked. "No," Kurt replied genuinely. It wasn't any creepier than Kurt cutting himself. "So, why are you here?" Blaine asked. "No, wait, let me guess. Creepy sex addict leading me up to your room so you can lock me in? It won't work, you know. They do room checks."

Kurt blushed slightly at Blaine's teasing comment. "I'd rather not say," he said quietly. Blaine turned suddenly serious, catching on to Kurt's hange of mood. "Oh, okay," he said comfortingly. "It's fine if that's too personal." Kurt nodded, deeply grateful that Blaine wasn't prying. He rather liked Blaine so far.

"Here we are," Blaine said after a little while, stopping in front of the doors. Kurt hadn't even noticed where they were walking. "Which one's yours?" Blaine asked. Kurt pointed to the middle door, slipping his hideous orange key out of his pocket. "Ah, cool," Blaine said as Kurt turned the key in the lock. "Your room's right next to mine. And my key is purple."

Kurt pushed the door open.

"Woah," Blaine whispered, stepping inside after Kurt. "I didn't think I'd ever meet someone who worships Broadway as much as I do.

Kurt smiled "Well, that's gay for you. He winked at Blaine, who laughed in return.

As he showed Blaine all of his posters, Kurt realized he felt different. Lighter, somehow, like maybe he would amount to something. Maybe he wouldn't always be the scared teenager hiding from his demons and facing them alone.

And Blaine didn't hate him. He was obviously doing something right. Blaine couldn't hate him, though, Kurt reasoned. Blaine didn't know him. His own friends back at McKinley couldn't wait to get rid of them. (He was too upset all of the time, and he just pulled everyone close to him down. They must be pretty eager to get away from him.)

He wasn't really screwed up. He was just different. (Not because he was gay; that was probably screwed up.) But the cutting, that was strong. That was dependable.

Kurt was confused, though. Blaine was gay. And Blaine seemed to be a very good person. He was putting up with Kurt, after all.

"So," Blaine began, "Met anyone else yet?"

Kurt shook his head. "No, I kind of thought they might be crazy. I don't... I don't belong here."

Blaine smiled at him. "We're all mad here," he said. "Everyone's mentally unhinged on some level. It's what makes us human."

_What was up with this boy_? Kurt wondered. He didn't seem to feel bad about being in a mental facility at all.

He looked at Blaine. "Could you maybe explain OCD for me a little bit? Sorry, you don't have to," He said, embarrassed. "I'm just curious..."

Blaine smiled and nodded encouragingly. "No, Kurt, it's completely fine. It doesn't even bother me."

"Really?" Kurt asked. "You don't, well, hate yourself for it?"

Blaine frowned. "No, why would I?"

Kurt's face got red. "No reason."

"Oh, okay." Blaine still let it go. "Well, OCD is like.. Well, it's like this feeling I get. Mostly, it's with things in a room. I feel like I need to touch them." He pauses. "Is that weird?"

Kurt shook his head. "Well, sometimes I feel like they need to be upside-down, or maybe I just need to touch them a certain number of times. It feels really good to pick stuff up and put it down a couple of times."

Kurt was puzzled. "Well, why not just stop?" He asked. "Leave the room or something." Blaine nodded patiently. "It isn't always that easy. I like organization; I always touch the centers of things, or the backs of them. And opening and closing things, too. If I open a cupboard and it bangs shut, let's say the door bounces back a little and then hits the cupboard four times. Well, four is... Four feels bad. I have a big thing with numbers, too. One, Three and five are really good. Five is the best, though. I used to like nines until I realized that three is the square root, and so three is okay instead. They really only go up to sixteen or seventeen. Thirteen was really, really bad."

He looked up at Kurt. "Sorry, I'm rambling." Kurt shook his head quickly, his eyes wide. "No, go on."

Blaine exhaled. "So, now thirteen is good. Something about the numbers shifted." He shrugs. "The behaviors usually go away after a while, but they're replaced with new ones."

Kurt was highly intrigued. "Well, why aren't you doing it right now?"

"Well, why aren't you doing whatever's your issue right now?" Blaine countered.

Kurt flinched. "Sorry," Blaine said. "That was uncalled for." "It's okay," Kurt said quietly. "I get it."

"I'm distracted," Blaine continued. "I'm talking to you. Also, this isn't my room, so I'm not really getting any strong feelings about what to touch. It's my first time in here, so I don't really have any rituals yet, I guess. It's easier to stop it before it begins, too. Sometimes I can just turn around and leave, and go somewhere else, and the urge will go away. But it's still there the next time. And once I get going, it's really hard to stop. It feels as though something really bad will happen, something will go wrong if I don't touch things. I know it's not true, but still... It's better to be safe then sorry."

He looked up at Kurt as though waiting for a reaction.

Kurt stared at him, taking it all in. "It doesn't seem that bad," he said. "So why are you still here?"

Blaine shrugged evasively. "I don't know," he said. "Come on Kurt, it's time for dinner. You can sit with me."

Feeling overjoyed that he was making friends with a complete stranger, one who wasn't going to pry or judge him or think he was strange, Kurt nodded and followed Blaine down to dinner. Maybe the boy was right. A little bit of crazy wasn't a bad thing after all.

* * *

**Hello! The plot thickens! This is your extra-long bonus chapter to make up for yesterday's chapter being late. So Blaine is actually doing pretty well mentally. He's probably going to be a big part of helping Kurt recover. We'll find out why he's still at the treatment center later. **

**Sorry if the OCD details don't seem believable. I actually used to have pretty bad OCD, and so this is just from my personal experience. If you don't have it yourself, it can be hard to understand. **

**Reviews! What do you guys think of Blaine so far? Anyone seen Avenue Q? Anyone love Broadway? **

**I'll post the next chapter as soon as I write it. **

**3 Luna ;)**


	8. Chapter 8

Dinner was edible, although not nearly as elegant as Kurt's own cooking. It was, however, much better than that of McKinley's cafeteria, and for that he was grateful. Blaine introduced him to one of his friends, a fast-talking and rather mean Latina girl who had been sent to rehab for drug dealing. He knew this because the girl, Santana, immediately informed him of is as soon as he sat down. "Don't worry," Blaine told him. "She's nicer than she looks." This earned him a bitch glare even more powerful than Kurt's.

After dinner, they were given the opportunity to stay up until 9:30 pm in the library or lounge, or they could opt to go back up to their rooms. Some kids, including the girl Santana, had individual therapy sessions. Kurt, not wanting to further burden Blaine with his company, decided to go to bed early. Blaine shrugged and let him go, proof that he didn't really like Kurt. He had probably just been being polite.

Feeling rather miserable, Kurt peeled off most of his layers and fell into bed, running his fingernails over his arms as he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

**Blaine**

One thing was for sure, this new boy Kurt was a mystery. He seemed guarded, as though he was keeping a very large secret. He also didn't seem as if he was going to share any time soon. Blaine frowned, rolling over in bed. The pillows at the Lehman Center weren't very comfortable. Not like his pillow at home. He frowned. He couldn't remember how his pillow at home had felt, only that he had felt comfortable. It had been a while, that was for sure. Five months, give or take. He was too much of an embarrassment, his own parents had been happy to get rid of him. It was just a fact. _Well_, he thought humorlessly, _at least they had been able to agree. They hadn't agreed on much else since the divorce. _

Blaine's father had remarried a much younger woman named Cassie. She was tall, curvy, and her hair was bleach blond. Well, it probably wasn't naturally like that. If Blaine was straight, he might have found her attractive, in a fake, Barbie-doll type of way. She didn't seem to do much but get her hair highlighted and her nails manicured. She barely paid Blaine any notice; in fact, she probably didn't even know he was gay.

But her sons sure did. Jason was thirteen, already dating and would surely grow up to be a star quarterback. And he definitely noticed Blaine's, well, gayness. He was always calling Blaine 'fag' or 'queer' or something of the sort. It was sad, really; the kid didn't even mean what he was saying. He probably just picked up on the terms from his friends at school. Jason said them all the time, too, especially when he had friends over. He would walk into the kitchen or living room or wherever, proudly regaling his friends with tales of girls he had made out with/gotten to second base with/etc. Then he would shoot Blaine a look of disgust, roll his eyes and say something along the lines of "And here's the faggot that I have to call a stepbrother. Luckily, we aren't related or anything." He and his friend would then laugh, the friend would say something like, "Nice one, man," and they would then go on their way.

That was only the beginning. Luke, who was sixteen, was the most popular kid in his grade. And he loathed Blaine. Blaine, who, as far as Luke was concerned, came into HIS home, bringing with him all of his posters and sheet music and freaky OCD.

Then Luke and his friends beat Blaine up behind the school during gym class. It wasn't too bad, after all, they didn't want Blaine's dad to do anything. And of course he didn't. He turned a blind eye when Blaine came home with a split lip, limping and looking utterly dejected.

Blaine was gay. Blaine was a waste of space, according to his dad. And Blaine sang showtunes, never looked at girls, and gave Luke and Jason, and the whole family, a bad reputation. So they sent Blaine away. And they had the perfect excuse: Blaine had OCD, after all. But that's not what they told the neighbors. Oh, no, Blaine had been injured playing lacrosse or football, or sometimes they said he had fallen down a flight of stairs, or perhaps he had been sent off to boarding school with an athletic scholarship. It didn't really matter what the story was, in every version Blaine was completely straight and not dishonorable in any way. Nothing would tarnish the shining reputation of the Anderson family.

Blaine tried not to let it get to him, he really did. Some days were batter than others. Some days he couldn't even leave his bedroom. Some days he washed his hands until they were red and raw.

But he had begun to wonder why he was still there. The therapy had been really helping.

He overheard the phone call one day. He was walking by the director's office and heard his name.

His dad had worked out a deal. They were going to pay for him to stay here, till the end of the school year and through the summer, after which they would send him to Dalton. He managed to convince the director that _no, Blaine wasn't getting better, he still needed help_. Until they found somewhere else to put him.

So Blaine stayed here, and he would for the whole summer, until Dalton started in September. At least he had friends. Santana really was a great person to talk to, despite her craziness and rather blunt, sarcastic sense of humor. She was also gay- well, lesbian. And she aspired to be an actress. _Well_, Blaine thought with a smirk, _she already had the drugs part down_. No one cares if you're on drugs when you have money. If Lindsay Lohan were just a random girl living in Westerville, she would surely be in jail for life. Santana would make a fantastic celebrity.

Besides Santana, he was also good friends with Ariella, a clever girl who sometimes spoke with a British accent. When Blaine had asked her why, she had just laughed and said, "Life's too short to conform to other people's standards. This is 2013, Blaine. People can switch genders if they want to. And I want to switch accents. Sometimes I just feel British, _okay_?"

And Blaine had nodded, because, well, how could you argue with that logic? Ariella could be British if she wanted to be. She had been there for about six weeks for an eating disorder. It made Blaine rather sad, because she really was gorgeous and funny and any straight guy would be lucky to have her. But when she looked in the mirror, all she saw was a fat girl.

Blaine sighed. He wondered what Kurt saw when he looked in the mirror. Blaine hoped Kurt saw what he did- Kurt was very good-looking, and stylish, and had a witty sense of humor. And Blaine really liked him so far. Who wouldn't? But Kurt was gay and this was not New York City and this was not a fairytale. Kurt had more likely than not encountered some strong homophobia. He had, after all, called himself queer when he first met Blaine. And the way he had said it had almost sounded like he meant _worthless_.

Why did Kurt hate himself? What had he gone through? Why was he here, and, more importably, what could Blaine do to help? If he wasn't careful, he knew Kurt would push him away. Sighing discontentedly, Blaine rolled back over and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**Okay, so, this chapter is rather blah! Nothing much happened, but, hey, now we know Blaine's backstory! No idea when I will be able to update next, but I have ****_big plans_**** for this story. So, yeah, maybe Blaine and Kurt will hang out more in the next chapter. Hehehehe (smirks evilly) maybe they'll do more than just hang out! **

**And maybe not! Because I'm an evil bitch. **

**Not really. **

**Well, we'll have to wait and see! And I can guarantee that nothing exciting will happen if I don't get more reviews/ followers. I want to hear from you guys!**

**When I wake up I want my inbox to be full of all the alerts that say who is following and reviewing. That will start my day off on a positive note. (hint hint hint, that means another chapter tomorrow!)**

**xoxo, **

**Luna **


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay children, here is your reward for the reviews. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Kurt**

Early the next morning, Kurt was woken up by a loud banging across the hall. He would've tried to go back to sleep, but this was followed another loud banging, this time closer. Kurt sighed, pulling the blankets up over his head.

"This is your wake up call! Breakfast is in thirty minutes!" yelled one of the staff. She banged on Kurt's door next. "This is your-"

"Yes, I've heard!" Kurt yelled at the door.

"Watch your tone!" the woman yelled back, but he could hear her laughing.

Smirking a little, but disgruntled nonetheless, Kurt sat up and slid out of bed. Stretching, he grabbed his iPod off the nightstand, clicking it on. 7:02. He sighed, going to the dresser to grab some of his clothes. He picked out a black button down, long-sleeved of course, purple skinny jeans and his favorite pair of designer boots. He wondered what Blaine was going to wear. He wondered what Blaine would think of his outfit.

Shaking his head, he carried the clothes into the bathroom, taking a quick shower. He then used the blow dryer he had brought from home, but had to settle for not using any hair spray, because the bathroom didnt seem to provide it. Annoyed, he decided to go down to the front desk as soon as possible. Then he frowned, reminding himself that this was not a hotel. But it couldn't hurt to check. He checked the time again. It was 7:25. He should probably head down to breakfast.

As he was heading toward the stairs, he ran into Santana, who was coming from the hallway to the right. That must be where the girls' rooms are, he figured.

"Morning," he said, nodding at her. She smirked. "Why hello, Lady Hummel! Enjoying your stay here in paradise?" Kurt rolled his eyes but declined to comment on her appointed nickname. "Hardly. Is there any hairspray in _your_ bathroom?"

Santana laughed and shook her head. "No way. Why, did you think _you_ were gonna get lucky? They never allow anything like that." Kurt frowned.

"What do you mean?"

She giggled, realization washing over her face. "Oh, you, like, _actually_ wanted hairspray? For your _hair_?"

Kurt nodded, still rather confused. "Of course. Why else would I need it?"

"Um, to get high, DUH," she said, as if this were perfectly obvious. See, the propellants that they put in the can-"

Kurt held up a hand. "I don't really need to know."

She laughed again upon seeing the look on Kurt's face. "That's why they don't let you have any. And have you seen the soaps and stuff? They're all-natural, so you can't use them to kill yourself."

She smiled, waving at Blaine as they walked into the cafeteria. They got their food- Sanatana got a blueberry muffin and Kurt only got a piece of toast- and then went over to join Blaine.

"Here," Santana said as they sat down. "Just ask Blaine, he'll tell you."

Blaine looked up at her. "Ask me what?"

Santana smirked evilly. "Ask the hobbit about his hair gel."

Kurt giggled, and Blaine gave Santana a look of pure loathing. "Okay, Blaine," Kurt said cheerfully, going along with Santana. "Tell me about the hair gel." Blaine turned away from the dark-haired girl, who was looking at him with vindictive satisfaction. "Well," Blaine said, with another glare over at Santana, "My hair is, um, high-maintenance. And I used to put hair gel in it every day, to keep it under control."

Santana grinned. "He used to go through a tube every week."

Blaine shook his head. "Not true. Anyways-" he held up a hand to stop Santana from commenting again- "One of the other guys was suicidal, and ended up nearly dying from drinking hairspray. So they banned all cosmetic products that contained chemicals, which basically means, no hair gel. So now I look like this." He ran his hand through his hair.

Santana smirked. "God, Blaine, you're such a gay guy. '_Cosmetic products.'_" She shook her head in mock disbelief. "That's a new low for you."

Blaine leaned across the table and hit her arm playfully. Kurt watched the entire interaction with a sense of wonderment. They were in a mental facility, and they both had their issues, but they were _happy_. He wondered if someday he would feel that way too. Maybe Blaine could help. He seemed to be pretty friendly, and he seemed not to mind Kurt. And he was kind of cute. Not that Kurt would ever admit it aloud.

**Blaine**

Kurt seemed to be enjoying eating breakfast with them. Blaine considered the possibilities, even though he knew it wasn't really his business. Was it an eating disorder? Kurt hadn't had much for breakfast, and he _was_ rather thin. Then again, he didn't seem underweight, either. Blaine realized he didn't know very much about Kurt. Sure, Kurt had showed him all of his Broadway posters, but since then, nothing. Not even an "I really like to read in my spare time" or an idea as to what his family was like.

Nothing with a capital _N_.

Blaine sighed. Something about Kurt was very compelling. He really wanted to get to know him, because, no matter what he could be hiding, Kurt was a good person. Blaine was sure of it.

"Hey," Blaine said once they had finished eating. "Kurt, d'you want to come to the library with me?"

Santana rolled her eyes and stood up. "Fine, go have sexy gay bonding time without me. I have therapy, anyway." Shooting a mischievous glance back in their direction, she strode away.

Kurt was blushing. Blaine had the sudden urge to hug him.

"Come on, let's go." He led Kurt out of the room, throwing his plate away as he left.

* * *

**Kurt**

Kurt sat down on the floor next to Blaine, leaning his back against a bookshelf near the back of the room. No one spoke for a minute or two.

"So," Blaine began eventually. "What do you like to do?"

Kurt shrugged. "Nothing," he mumbled.

"You must do something other than go to school."

Kurt shrugged.

"Well, what's your favorite subject?"

Kurt shrugged again.

"You don't like school? You're smart."

Kurt couldn't help but smile a little at the compliment. No one ever complimented him on anything other than his outfits.

"I would like it a lot better if I didn't get thrown into dumpsters."

"What was that?"

"French. My best subject is French." Kurt corrected quickly. He hoped Blaine wouldn't pry. But he did.

"Did you say you get thrown into dumpsters?"

Kurt didn't want to lie to Blaine. Maybe it would feel good to tell him. After all, Kurt wouldn't be here for very long, and after that he would never see Blaine again, or so he told himself.

Kurt nodded almost imperceptibly.

"So you get bullied a lot, I take it?"

"Yes," Kurt said stiffly. Blaine was judging him, he could tell. But he looked up at Blaine and didn't see judgement.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said. "I did too- well, before I came here. I'm going to a new school in the fall."

"Really?" Kurt was curious. Why would Blaine want to share something like that? Why did he seem so okay with it?

As if reading his mind, Blaine said, "It doesn't bother me anymore, not really. I'd rather be gay and be bullied than be in the closet, pretending to be something I wasn't."

Kurt only nodded.

"Sorry, would you like to talk about something else?"

Kurt nodded again. Blaine paused for a moment, looking as though he was trying to come up with his next question.

"I like shopping," Kurt told the shorter boy. He hadn't meant to say it, it had just slipped out. But he kind of felt as though he trusted Blaine. He had no idea why; his last friends ahead betrayed him.

Blaine smiled encouragingly. "Well, go on."

Kurt smiled back just a little. "I really like to sing," he began. "At least, I used to, before I started-"

He stopped. He was giving away too much. But he really wanted to tell someone. Could he?

"Before what?" Blaine asked gently.

"Nevermind," Kurt said, blushing a little. "You don't really want to know," he said, again looking at Blaine for confirmation. But it turned out he was wrong.

"No, I do, if you're willing to tell me. You're interesting, Kurt. I care about y-" Blaine stopped, embarrassed. "I'm curious."

Kurt heard him. "You... Care, about me?" He asked, disbelieving.

Blaine nodded, his face flushing even redder. "I've never really met anyone like you," he told him honestly.

Kurt's hopes lifted, then fell when he realized what Blaine probably met. "You mean anyone gay?" he asked, already certain of the answer.

"No," Blaine said slowly. "I meant anyone special."

Kurt's eyes widened. He decided right then and there to stop predicting what Blaine was going to say. He had been wrong every time. Maybe Blaine liked him. He was pretty sure he liked Blaine. Kurt shifted, leaning closer to Blaine as Blaine did the same, tilting his head slightly. Kurt's brain short-circuited. But then his instincts kicked in.

"Stop!" Kurt shouted.

Blaine pulled back quickly. "I'm sorry," he said, flustered. "That was uncalled for, I shouldn't've-"

"No, no, no, no, no, no," Kurt said repeatedly, shaking his head.

Kurt wanted to kiss him, but he shouldn't want that, and _Blaine_ shouldn't want that; he didn't know what he was getting himself into. Blaine probably was confused, he didn't really know Kurt, didn't know what he did, he probably did kill small puppies in his spare time-

"I'm messed up! You don't want me; you're confused! NO ONE wants me like this!" Kurt said, his voice shrill.

Trying not to cry, Kurt stood up, brushed himself off and left.

**Blaine**

Blaine watched him go, his heart sinking. What had he been thinking, trying to kiss Kurt? It had been an impulse. A very strong impulse. But it hadn't felt wrong. Now he had messed everything up. Kurt hated him for it, and Kurt thought that he was messed up! How could Kurt think that? He was gorgeous and unique and Blaine could just tell he wasn't like anyone he had ever met before. Or anyone he would ever meet.

Putting his head in his hands, Blaine sighed, hoping he hadn't made Kurt hate him for good.

* * *

**Ahh! Sorry, I had to. But don't worry, it'll happen very soon. So, I recieved no less than four reviews and seven more followers overnight! Thank you guys! See? More reviews= faster updates. And seriously, I'm sorry! I promise they'll get together fairly soon.**

**I'll update sometime over the weekend. Better things will happen then.**

**Cheers!**

**-Luna**


	10. Chapter 10

Kurt spent the rest of the day avoiding Blaine. He went to his first one-on-one therapy session, barely talking to Dr. Reeves, his appointed psychiatrist. He just nodded and shook his head when necessary, tuning the man out as best as he could. He sat alone at lunch and dinner, ignoring Santana's efforts to join him. Blaine looked miserable from where he sat, and Kurt figured he did, too. But he didn't want to go over to Blaine, because he was too afraid of rejection. He wasn't even sure what he felt for Blaine. Sure, Blaine was charming, kind, patient, funny, good-looking, and seemingly interested in Kurt, but Kurt didn't want to let himself fall for Blaine. _Everything ends in tragedy_, he reminded himself as he left the cafeteria.

He had screwed this up, though, he knew it was true. Blaine had some sort of feelings for him, and Kurt maybe did for Blaine, but even if he didn't, he had hurt Blaine's feelings. He sighed. _One big screw up for today._ He remembered the days when he used to keep track. Every thing he did wrong he added up, and at the end of the day, he cut once for every failure. But he was here, in a mental hospital, and he didn't have anything sharp; the staff and doctors made sure of it. They had checked his wrists at his appointment today as well. But he needed the release. Kurt made up his mind; he would cut as soon as he got back to his room.

* * *

"Scissors... No... Hmm... I could break the mirror? No, dad would have to pay for it..." Kurt muttered to himself as he turned the room upside down. Then he paused. He knew he remembered seeing a thumbtack or two on a bulletin down the hall to the girls' dorms. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 11:14. It was way past nightly curfew. Quietly, he opened his door and tiptoed down the hall. He made a left, stealthily navigating his way down the hall to where the girls' dorms were. The bulletin board was there, all right. It was right in front of the little coffee room where the students could go if they got up early or couldn't sleep. Kurt walked quietly toward the door, not wanting to be seen. He grabbed a stray tack off of the board, closing his fingers around it as he turned to leave.

"Oh, hey, it's Kurt, isn't it?" He was interrupted in his quest by a pretty blonde girl inside the coffee room. She was curled up in an armchair by the fireplace, sipping from a steaming mug of tea. "Hi there. Ariella, right?" She noddded and smiled.

"What are you doing up so late?" She asked, arching an eyebrow delicately. Kurt stepped forward, quickly slipping the tack into his pocket and praying that she hadn't seen. "Oh... same as you, I guess. Just couldn't sleep."

She nodded, smiling kindly at him and motioning him toward her. "You can come sit, if you like. These chairs are really comfortable."

"Okay," Kurt replied, not wanting to be impolite. He walked over and sat in the adjoining armchair, crossing his legs and getting comfortable. She was right; these _were_ nice chairs.

"So," he said, not exactly sure how to begin. "Um... how's life?" He cringed. That sounded awful. Ariella smiled a little. "Okay, I guess. My individual therapy session was rough today." Kurt nodded; he could understand not wanting to pour his heart out to a complete stranger. "You can tell me about it, if you'd like." Kurt offered, smiling warmly at her. She really was such a sweet girl.

"Well, you know why I'm here, right?" Kurt shook his head. "Blaine didn't tell me after he introduced us the other day." He told her honestly. She laughed.

"Oh, Blaine, always the perfect gentleman. Well, I have an eating disorder. Anorexia, the doctors call it." She smirked. "I used to think of it as selective eating." Kurt laughed along with her.

"Anyway, I skipped lunch the other day, and my doctor noticed. I was honestly not hungry that day. But my doctor wouldn't listen. She said that I was relapsing, and I have to have my food intake monitored now. Honestly, it's so screwed up the way they do things. They're supposed to want you to get better, but when you do, they think you're lying. They sort of treat me like, 'Once an anorexic, always an anorexic.' If they don't expect me to recover, then how can they expect me to expect that of myself? They should be leading by example. They need to trust me if they expect results."

Kurt blinked. "Wow, that was deep." Ariella giggled shyly. "Sorry. I might decide to be a conselor one day, help other people who have had experiences like mine. I just think that, since I've been through it all, I would know how to do it better. Understand others through my personal experience, not just from words in a textbook."

Kurt was once again astounded by her wisdom. "Well, no matter what you do, you can't be as bad as your conselor is."

She made a face. "Doctor Jennings, do you have her?"

Kurt shook his head. "Doctor Reeves." The girl nodded, switching over to British seamlessly. "No, well, lucky you. Doctor Jennings is a right prat. Please excuse my British."

Kurt giggled. "I forgot Blaine told me you did that."

Ariella nodded. "Yeah, it's kinda my thing, you know?" she asked, still British. She looked up at Kurt. "What's your 'thing'?" she asked, switching back over to an American accent. Kurt frowned. "I don't know," he replied. "My clothes I guess; at least, that's the first thing anyone notices when they meet me. I guess they make me feel kind of secure, like as long as people see them they won't see... well, the real me.

"And what's the real you?" She asked kindly, her blue eyes warm. She looked so sweet and understanding, Kurt decided to tell her. "Cutting," he said bravely. "I cut myself because I get bullied." It felt so good to say it out loud. Cutting usually seemed to Kurt like the kind of thing to be whispered from behind closed doors, cleared from search historys and thrown into a paper shredder. _Cutting_.

Ariella nodded seriously, no trace of judgement in her eyes. "We all have our flaws, and the things we do to shield them. It's what makes us human, Kurt."

He nodded, not quite sure if he believed her yet. But he wanted to. "I'd better go to bed," he decided, standing up.

She smiled. "Sleep well."

"Thanks."

"Oh, and Kurt?"

"Yes?'

"I would put the thumbtack back in the board if I were you. Wouldn't want to forget and sit on it later." She winked, leaving Kurt dumbstruck as he left the room. Without any hesitation, he extracted the thumbtack from his pocket and stuck it into the board.

He had to go talk to Blaine.

* * *

**Hello! Isn't Ariella lovely? We need more Ariellas in the world. :)**

**So, I know nothing between our two boys has happened yet. Don't hate me. There will be another update tomorrow, and it will be well worth it. Seriously, I have a plan for this, and if they had kissed in the library, it wouldn't have been half as interesting. **

**I love you all! Especially when you review, favorite, and follow ;)**

**Chapter 11 is on the horizon. Patience. **

**xoxo,**

**- Luna**


	11. Chapter 11

**Okay, I'm not in a very good mood today, but I'll still post this for you guys, and maybe it'll brighten your day. **

**Here you are!**

* * *

**Kurt**

Kurt knocked softly on Blaine's door, not wanting to wake up any of the other boys.

Blaine opened the door a moment later, blinking sleep out of his eyes. His gaze hardened a bit when he saw Kurt standing there. Despite being the taller one, Kurt suddenly felt very small. "Um, hey, Blaine," He said quietly, trying his best to meet the other boy's eyes. Blaine still said nothing. "I'm sorry," Kurt said. "Did I wake you?" Blaine shook his head mutely. "Come out of your room, please. I messed up earlier today, and we need to talk."

Blaine obliged, stepping out of his room and closing the door behind him.

"I'm listening."

Kurt took a deep breath, meeting Blaine's gaze evenly. "I'm sorry. I got defensive because, well... I didn't want you to find out my secret." Blaine's gaze softened a tiny bit. "It's okay, you don't have to tell me."

"No," Kurt countered. I want to."

"Okay. I'm all ears."

"I cut myself," Kurt said.

Blaine's eyes widened. "Oh, Kurt..."

Kurt held up a hand for silence. "I just had a talk with Ariella."

Blaine grinned. "Oh, she's the best."

Kurt smiled back. "I'm beginning to see that."

There was a moment of silence.

"So," Blaine said simply.

"Look, Blaine," Kurt began, "I don't know what it is you feel towards me, but I know what I feel toward you. I like you, Blaine, I like you a lot. You make me laugh, and you understood me like no one else had, and I'm sorry. And if you can like me, despite the cutting, then I will accept that. Okay?"

"Okay," Blaine said simply, staring at Kurt.

"Okay. So?" Kurt prompted, using all of his willpower not to run away.

"So." Blaine said again.

And then he closed the distance between them and kissed Kurt full on the mouth.

Kurt tensed at first. It was nothing like he had ever experienced, unless you counted Kartofsky, which Kurt sure didn't. He wasn't even thinking about Karofsky as he moved his lips slowly against Blaine's, relaxing and even allowing the shorter boy to wrap his arms around Kurt' waist. They broke apart after some time, breathing heavily, and Kurt pulled Blaine into a tight hug. "I can," Blaine said breathily. "Despite the cutting. It doesn't even factor into the equation." Kurt smiled, feeling happier than he had in a long time.

They sat down on the floor and talked for some time, about everything and nothing at all. After half an hour, a tall redheaded woman came walking down the hall. She frowned upon seeing the two boys. "What on earth are you two doing? It's past midnight!" Kurt recongnized her voice from somewhere. _But where...?_

Oh. He smiled. She was the woman who had given the wake-up call. He looked at her nametag. Her name was Gina. "Sorry," Blaine said. "It's my fault. We'll go to bed right away." Her gaze softened and she smiled at them. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. It isn't as if you're doing anything major. Get to bed within the next few mintues and no one will ever know."

"Thank you," Kurt said gratefully as she walked away. "Sure thing," She called back. "I was a kid once, too. And for the record, I think you two make an adorable couple." Smiling smugly, she walked back down the hall.

Kurt blushed, embarrassed. _How did she know? Oh._ He looked down at his and Blaine's hands, which were tightly intertwined. How funny; he hadn't even noticed. And how _embarrassing_.

Blaine stood up, offering Kurt his hand. He pulled the other boy up, kissing him on the forehead.

"Hey, Kurt. Could you do me a favor?" He asked softly.

Kurt nodded.

"Will you wear a short- sleeved shirt tomorrow? I want to see."

Kurt stiffened a little, but then he relaxed. It was only Blaine. Blaine wasn't judging him. "I would, but I didn't pack any," he told Blaine honestly.

"That's okay. You care wear one of mine, if you like."

Kurt blushed but nodded, only beginning to imagine what Santana might say. "Okay."

Blaine looked thrilled as he went into his room, returning quickly with his Avenue Q t-shirt. Kurt smiled shyly.

"Well, um, I washed it since the other day," Blaine told him, rubbing his thumb against his middle finger. He laughed nervously. "I'm kind of in the habit of washing things meticulously."

Kurt smiled, accepting the T-shirt. "Thank you," he said, feeling rather pleased at being given Blaine's shirt. "I'll wear it."

Blaine beamed at him, hugging him once more and then bidding him goodnight.

Kurt may or may not have slept with the t-shirt in him arms.

* * *

**Okay. Love me now? It happened. Ta-da! There might not be an update tomorrow, since I have literally no time to write today, but I'll try.**

**Love you all!**

**(Love reviews, favorites and follows almost as much)**

**;)**

**Luna**


	12. Chapter 12

Kurt woke up at precisely 7 am that morning, same time Gina started banging on doors. He dragged himself out of bed without any complaint, because for once he had little to complain about. He was already clutching the T-shirt, and so he grabbed a pair of dark skinny jeans from inside his dresser, along with his favorite pair of combat boots. He showered quickly, combing his hair and once again mourning the loss of any styling products.

With his hair still slightly damp, he exited the barroom and examined himself in the full-length mirror. Not too bad, he thought. But he felt like something was missing. It was like he felt naked, almost, wearing Blaine's T-shirt. It was slightly too big for him (Blaine probably had broader shoulders than him) and therefore the sleeves went down almost to his elbows.

_Close, but not quite,_ he thought to himself. S_ix or seven more inches and the cuts would be covered. _He was overwhelmed by a rush of fear. It swirled in his stomach, making him feel slightly nauseous. What would Blaine say? Sure, he had wanted to see this, but he hasn't known the extent to which Kurt's arm was scarred.

Glancing down, Kurt began to count the cuts out of curiosity. There were eleven visible scars, thin diagonal and horizontal lines that ran the length of his forearm. There were also four or five more faded scars, lines that stood out only slightly darker than his skin. They could be easily overlooked, especially when next to the newer ones. Red, angry lines stood out next to a thin blue vein that was carrying blood past his elbow. Red, white and blue. _God bless the USA. _

There were three that had only recently begun to heal over, each about an inch long. They ran parallel to each other, three neat little lines that marked some of his more recent failures. _Getting laughed at at a community theatre audition. Getting a B- on his English essay. _They were relatively shallow, not really deep enough to leave permanent scars, but for now they were highly noticeable. As for all of the other cuts he had made over the past four years, most had faded away, leaving no trace of his previous wrongdoings.

He remembered when his father had had his heart attack. Those cuts had been the deepest of all, and he was probably going to be left with those permanently. Not that he cared. If people were allowed to tattoo themselves and get multiple piercings, why was this so frowned upon by society? Those things hurt. Those things were by choice. But they were for cosmetic purposes. To change one's appearance. That was the same as what he was doing, wasn't it?

His fear was replaced by a rush of pure terror; he could only imagine what Blaine would think of him. Feeling extremely guilty, he grabbed a jacket and threw it on over his T-shirt.

He could handle letting Blaine see, maybe, but he most definitely couldn't handle everyone else like this. Not a chance. He walked to breakfast with his head down, knowing that Blaine would be disappointed.

Sure enough, Blaine's smile fell a little upon seeing Kurt's jacket, but he quickly flashed Kurt a look of "it's okay, you tried your best" as he sat down with his breakfast. Kurt joined him shortly after with a bowl of cereal (the healthy kind, not the artificial kind), seating himself to Blaine's right.

"Hey," Blaine whispered. Kurt began to apologize, but Blaine held a finger to his lips for silence. "It's alright," he said. "I'm not mad at you. I didn't expect you to gain total confidence overnight." Kurt only nodded, feeling ashamed. He had tried, he really had, but he just couldn't do it. "I would have done it for you," Kurt whispered honestly. "But I couldn't handle anyone else seeing me."

Blaine intertwined his fingers with Kurt's underneath the table, offering him a small smile. "I'm proud of you for trying."

Kurt only nodded, sitting in silence as he finished his breakfast. Luckily, Santana didn't put in an appearance. _God knows what she's doing still in her bedroom. Ugh. _

After he was finished, he was thinking about going outside for a bit, but he decided not to upon seeing that they outside area was fenced in and supervised. It wasn't, like, a chain-link fence or anything, just a wooden one, and there were many benches and tables positioned in the grass. It was nicely landscaped, with a stone path and a fountain, and maple trees provided shade. It would have been alright, but he wanted to hold hands with Blaine and didn't want to draw any attention.

He didn't know where he really wanted to go until Blaine suggested that they head back to his room. Kurt nodded, taking the shorter boy's hand as they approached the door.

As soon as they had shut the door, Kurt turned to Blaine. "Wait, why are we in your room, anyway?"

Blaine raised his eyebrows. "I'm not going to assault you or anything, I promise. I just wanna talk."

"Okay." He followed Blaine over to the bed, where they sat down on the edge. Kurt couldn't help but blush, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He knew nothing was going to happen- Blaine wasn't like that and neither was he- but it was more the sheer possibility that something _could_ happen that was making him nervous. He looked up at Blaine, and it suddenly dawned on him that this boy- this caring, gorgeous boy-was his boyfriend. He smiled shyly.

"What are you thinking?" Blaine asked him, smiling upon seeing the look in Kurt's face.

"Are you my boyfriend now?" Kurt asked him.

Blaine grinned. "I think so, yes," he replied.

Kurt beamed back at him. "Good. Excellent."

Blaine simply watched him for a moment, deep in thought.

"I was wondering," he began, "About what you said earlier."

"Yes?" Kurt prompted.

"Do you think you could take the jacket off, now that we're alone?"

Kurt but his lip, but nodded quickly. "I think I could, yeah."

His hands shook a little as he removed the jacket. He then shut his eyes tightly, waiting for Blaine to respond. Nothing.

He opened his eyes a little.

The first thing he noticed was Blaine's fingers tapping out little rhythms on the bedspread.

"May I?" Blaine asked, motioning toward Kurt's now exposed arm. Confused, Kurt nodded, sliding closer to Blaine. He allowed the dark-haired boy to take his arm in his hands, waiting impatiently for what Blaine might do.

Then Blaine reached out, ever so gently, and ran his index finger along the first line of a scar at the veins on Kurt's wrist. He then moved down a centimeter, proceeding to trace the next one. He continued down slowly until he reached the point on Kurt's arm where the marks stopped. Kurt shivered. The gesture had felt strangely intimate somehow, and Kurt had to admit that he had found it rather enjoyable. It felt absolutely _wonderful_ to have someone you like acknowledge each and every one of your flaws- literally- and be completely accepting.

Kurt looked at Blaine shyly through his eyelashes, waiting for him to let go of his arm.

Blaine didn't. Instead, using his right hand, he brought it up to caress the side of Kurt's face, tilting his head and leaning in as he did so. Their lips met gently, then exerting more force as they became more comfortable with one another. It was only their second kiss, after all. After what seemed like forever they finally broke apart, not wanting to let go of one another. Kurt pulled Blaine in for a tight hug.

He quickly released him, beginning to doubt. Maybe Blaine hadn't really wanted to kiss him; it'd probably been an impulse. _An OCD impulse, that's what it was. _

_NO_, some small, newly developed part of his brain argued. _He_ **_likes_** _you_. _He_ _**wanted**_ _to kiss you._

Kurt frowned. Was it really possible that Blaine wanted him the way he wanted Blaine? That Blaine wanted to be his boyfriend, and hold his hand and touch him and go on dates? And even _more_?

"You're beautiful," Blaine told him simply.

Kurt smiled, leaning in to kiss his boyfriend again.

* * *

** Hello. Sorry. *hides in a corner* I've had a really rough week. I was too depressed to write anything happy. So, yeah. :(**

**Bye. New chapter when I feel better. **

**No telling when that will be. **

**- Luna**


	13. Chapter 13

The next day was Sunday. Kurt had been there since Thursday, and he already felt better. (Though he had a hunch it had nothing to do with treatment and everything to do with Blaine.) Since it was the weekend, his family did visit, as promised. They were only allowed to stay for an hour, so as not to disrupt the "recovery process."

**Burt**

Burt was pleasantly surprised by the dramatic improvement in Kurt's over all demeanor. He walked with his head held high now, and he was able to make eye contact when he talked to them. He even joked around a bit. And Kurt _never _told jokes. Hell, he might be able to leave in a couple of weeks. But as much as he wanted his son back home, he would rather him heal completely than partially. He was so glad the therapy was working. That is, until Kurt dropped the news on him.

"Dad," he had began, "Just so you know, I'm well... I don't know what to call it, but I'm sort of seeing someone."

"Like a hallucination?" Burt said the first thing that came to his mind and Kurt cast him a highly affronted look.

"No, dad. I'm... I have a boyfriend of sorts."

"What do you mean 'of sorts'?"

"Well, we obviously can't date, since we're locked up here-"

Burt cast him a reproving look; annoyed with his use of the words 'locked up' but let him continue. Kurt went on and on about this boy he had _just met. _Burt wasn't liking the sound of this. "Woah, woah, there; slow down, kiddo." Burt cut in. "You don't even know this kid; you've only been here a couple of days. He could have a lot of issues, Kurt, even if he doesn't show them-"

"You're wrong," Kurt exclaimed. "He's really sweet and understanding and he's only here for a minor problem."

"Which is?"

"It's his business, dad-"

"He's interested in my son. That sure as hell makes it my business." Burt was getting pretty worked up at this point.

Carole put her hand on his shoulder. "Calm down, honey," she said softly. "Don't you see how happy Kurt is? Let's not judge this Blaine boy until we meet him."

"Well then," Burt said. "I guess you need to introduce us, Kurt."

**Kurt**

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Blaine, meet his family?! _This'll be an experience. _

Burt wanted to meet Blaine right away. They still had thirty-four minutes left in the visit. Thirty-four minutes that he would surely live to regret.

Feeling like he was headed for the gallows, Kurt ascended the stairs and walked down the hall to Blaine's room. He knocked on the door, twisting the handle impatiently.

"Hello?" Blaine opened the door and Kurt immediately crashed right into him. Blaine grinned, amused. "Hey, Kurt, you don't have to knock the door down, you know. What's going on?" His smile faded upon seeing his boyfriend's grim expression. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, it's nothing too serious, well, I'm fine, but Blaine, my parents are here, as you probably know, and they want to meet you." Kurt made this whole speech without pausing to take a breath. "Woah, calm down," Blaine said. "Take it easy. It's okay; I don't mind meeting them."

Kurt sighed. _Was anyone on his side about this? Was this really necessary? Ugh._

"Fine, then. It's your funeral." Kurt warned him.

Chuckling, Blaine permitted Kurt to drag him down the stairs.

* * *

"Nice to meet you, sir," Blaine said politely, shaking Burt's hand. "You too, Mrs. Hummel."

Kurt rolled his eyes dramatically. "Prep school boy," he muttered under his breath.

"It's Carole, dear," Carole said kindly. "And very nice to meet you." Blaine chatted easily with Carole for a moment. Burt eyes him warily, probably looking for signs of mental illness.

"You know, people usually introduce their boyfriends to their parents _after_ they're together for a little while, not right away." Kurt interrupted their meet and greet. "This is highly unnecessary."

"You're in a mental institution, kid. Don't push your luck," Burt said, chuckling. Kurt stuck out his tongue, not caring how immature he might seem. Blaine just laughed, squeezing Kurt's hand comfortingly.

* * *

The entire visit went relatively well- his father seemed to show grudging approval of Blaine, especially when he found out why Blaine was there- and Burt had to admit he hadn't seen Kurt look this happy in a long time.

Carole, of course, completely approved of Blaine from the start- "After all, he seems to be boosting Kurt's self-esteem just by being in the room"- and was adamant that they would be dating once they were both released. Burt wasn't so sure if their relationship could last; Kurt _did_ have a significant problem, but he was stubborn and sarcastic and he looked so much more _alive_ than usual. For Kurt, stubborn and sarcastic meant healthy.

He only hoped Blaine wouldn't break up with Kurt the moment he had an emotional break down. He knew Kurt couldn't handle that kind of pain.

* * *

**Hello. It's Luna. follow, favorite, and review! Thank you to all of my regular reviewers! **

**Next chapter may get a bit, ahem, ****_interesting_****. ;) ;P**

**But only if I get responses to this one. **

**Cheers! **


	14. Chapter 14

**Okay. As promised, this chapter is a bit M-rated. you have been warned. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Kurt**  
The next week went by following the same routine. Kurt woke up, showered, and had breakfast with Santana and Blaine. He then went to therapy on every other day, and those days that he didn't were spent in the library, reading with his boyfriend. (Boyfriend!)

He was feeling better than he had in a long time. Just being removed from the environment in which he was bullied made him ten times less timid, and he didn't really feel like cutting- Blaine wouldn't be happy about it, and he hadn't really done anything to mess up lately.

On Friday, Ariella was cleared by her bitchy counselor to sit and eat lunch with the rest of the teenagers. She sat with Santana and Blaine and of course Kurt, who could usually be found not more than ten feet from his boyfriend. Santana didn't exactly love Ariella ("She's too nice") but had to admit that she was clever and cunning and generally quite tolerable.

He and Blaine, or sometimes Ariella, spent lots of time exploring the rest of the Center. There was an indoor pool on the main level, past the stairs to the bedrooms, and down an adjoining hallway were the offices for all of the staff. There was also an art room, which Kurt spent some of his time in, sketching outfits or watching Ariella paint.

But his favorite place of all had to be the game room. Down the stairs and into the basement level of the Center, it was cozy and usually uninhabited (people usually preferred the game room in the lounge). It was carpeted and had a large stone fireplace, as well as table tennis, air hockey, checkers, chess and other things similar.

But Kurt's favorite thing of all was watching Blaine play the piano.

There was an old, upright piano on the back wall, and Kurt soon found out that Blaine could play almost any song by ear, which resulted in many Katy Perry songs, mixed in with some Disney ballads and show tunes.  
But best of all was when Ariella wrote to her mother to ask for some sheet music.

Ariella's mother was kind, or so Kurt gathered, and she sent a large book of the top 100 Broadway songs of all time, as well as the entire score to Wicked.

There was, however, one downfall to the game room:  
You had to ask permission from a staff member before you went down, and there had to be at least three people, one of whom must have "special privileges."

Special privileges, Kurt soon learned, were given out to kids who had been there for at least six weeks, did well in individual and group therapy, and didn't cause any trouble.

Neither Kurt nor Ariella had these, and Santana was, well, Santana.  
Kurt simply hasn't been there long enough, and Ariella wasn't exactly her counselor's favorite patient. She was also being tested for personality disorders, due to her penchant for all things British Accent.  
Blaine found this pretty funny, especially because she loved to play games with the counselor. She would go in for one on one therapy and talk only with an accent, infuriating her counselor, and then act completely "normal" everywhere else.

This infuriated Dr. Jennings, who couldn't exactly _prove_ that Ariella was acting differently, and therefore wasn't taken seriously when she told the director about it.

Ariella confided in Kurt that this was all part of her master scheme to get Dr. Jennings fired.

All the other doctors, of course, found Ariella to be quite pleasant, following the rules, using her manners and exhibiting all signs of improvement.

But consent from Dr. Jennings was required for special privileges, and that was clearly never going to happen.

Anyways, Kurt soon found himself to be having a problem- they weren't really supposed to be in their rooms unsupervised during the day, and he wanted to kiss Blaine.

The large couch in the game room seemed to be taunting him as he sat in the game room that Friday evening, playing table tennis with Santana and watching Blaine play piano with Ariella. _Three patients at all times. Blah_. He hadn't kissed Blaine in two days, well, unless you counted chaste kisses goodnight, and Kurt was getting rather impatient. He was forced out of his daydreaming by Santana, who noticed his, ah, _problem_.

The Latina girl smirked evilly. "Not getting any, Hummel?" She asked, just loudly enough for him to hear. Kurt blushed furiously. "Shut up, Santana," he muttered, glad that Blaine was playing and singing loudly. God, he was gonna kill her if Blaine heard.

"Oh, don't worry, your secret's safe with me." She winked, a devilish expression splashed across her face. "But you gays- guys, sorry-"  
(She didn't look too sorry) "I mean, I really thought he would have been screwing you by now."

She arched an eyebrow, as if daring him to answer. Kurt could only shake his head. "Oh," she said, still looking maddeningly smug. "_You're_ screwing _him_? I always thought you were more of a bottom." She shook her head in mock disappointment. "Full of surprises."

Kurt was beyond mortified.  
Giggling, Santana slid her chair backwards and stood up. Kurt froze. "_Santana, don't you dare_!" He whispered, suppressing the urge to run his nails over his arms. "I will _kill_ you!"

To his utter horror, Santana walked over the piano bench to where Ariella and Blaine were sitting. But instead of talking to Blaine, she tapped Ariella on the shoulder. The blond girl stopped playing. "What?" She asked, looking up from the music. Blaine looked over, too. "Hey, you're stealing my duet partner!" He teased, but Santana ignored him. She motioned Ariella to stand up and then whispered something into her ear. Ariella's eyes widened, then narrowed, and then a small smirk began to play about her lips. "Okay," she nodded at Santana.

"Welllll," Ariella began in a singsongy voice. "We'll just be going now. We should probably get to bed early." Smiling sweetly, she linked arms with Santana and they practically skipped out of the room. _Traitor_.

The terrible thing was that Kurt was kind of happy about it. He _did_ want time alone with his boyfriend (not that he would ever admit it) and although sex was completely off the table, something more than polite kissing might be a little bit... Nice.

Kurt snuck a glance over at Blaine. The room suddenly felt very, very quiet with the girls gone. He realized that the piano had stopped. Blaine turned and locked eyes with him, his gaze so dark it might be sinister if not for the fact that it was maddeningly sexy.

Kurt's hands shook. Blaine reached out, touching him lightly.  
"Hey, are you okay? I know Santana tried to set something up but we don't have to do anything, really."

Kurt shook his head, steeling his nerves. "I'm fine. Completely."  
"Alright then, if you're sure." Blaine smiled gently. "What do you want to do?"

"Um. Will you kiss me?" Kurt asked hopefully.  
"Of course." Standing up, Blaine offered Kurt a hand- _he was too polite- _and then pulled him in for a kiss. It was long and slow but there was also an undercurrent of something else that Kurt didn't quite recognize. But he liked it for sure.

Kurt moaned softly, allowing Blaine to slip his tongue into his mouth. Kurt sucked on it lightly, slipping his hands around the shorter boy's waist. They finally broke away, gasping for air but not wanting to stop. "Wow," Kurt whispered breathlessly. "Wow is right," Blaine replied, offering him a small smile. "Do you wanna-"

"Couch," Blaine replied, nodding. Kurt and Blaine practically ran over, Kurt laying down and allowing Blaine to straddle his hips. "May I?" He asked Kurt, hooking his fingers along the underside of his boyfriend's shirt.

Luckily for both of them, Kurt was only wearing a Wicked T-shirt today, courtesy of Blaine. He had covered his arms in band aids, more for his own sense of security than anything else, but he was feeling braver about them nonetheless. Kurt sat up, allowing Blaine to slip the shirt over his head. Blaine then began unbuttoning his own shirt, but Kurt shoved his hands aside.

"No, let me," he whispered, quickly unfastening he buttons where Blaine had left off. Blaine then occupied himself with kissing along Kurt's jaw, sucking on his neck until he left a mark. _Woah_. Blaine was absolutely gorgeous, clearly defined muscles visible against his tan skin. Kurt literally paled in comparison. But he had more pressing things to worry about at the moment.

"Oh, god, Blaine," Kurt murmured as he slid Blaine's shirt off of his arms. He threw it somewhere in the direction of the piano, not caring where it landed. Kurt may not have had much expertise in the area of making out, but he had a feeling that stopping to fold a shirt did not qualify as sexy. Kurt leaned back against the couch, tilting his head back to allow Blaine better access.

He gasped as the dark haired boy sucked on the same spot again. "Ohhhhh," he moaned, shutting his eyes. Blaine sat up abruptly, still straddling Kurt's hips. "Am I hurting you?" Blaine asked nervously, his eyes searching Kurt's. "Are you kidding me? No," Kurt panted. "Don't stop. It feels so, so good, Blaine."

Smiling, Blaine leaned down and kissed him on the lips, running his fingers lightly over Kurt's abdomen. He stopped when he felt the smooth, raised lines on the left side of Kurt's hips. Wordlessly, he pulled back, causing Kurt to whine in annoyance.

His brow furrowed slightly, Blaine contemplated the six neat scars that adorned Kurt's pale skin. "What are you looking...Oh." Kurt winced upon seeing what Blaine was staring at. "I'm sorry. I forgot about those."  
Blaine shook his head. "You don't need to apologize, Kurt. You're beautiful, absolutely flawless."

"But what about all of the scars?" Kurt argued. "Each one represents an actual flaw. They're existing proof."

"No, Kurt, NO," Blaine sighed, wishing he could make the other boy understand. "Kurt, they don't matter. I mean, they do matter, because they're part of you, and YOU matter but..." He looked down at Kurt, who looked ready to cry, his blue eyes bright with unshed tears. He reached down, gently brushing Kurt's hair out of his eyes. "Everyone has scars,"  
He said softly. "Look," he said, pointing to his elbow. There was a thick scar there, an inch long.

"What did you do?" Kurt asked curiously. Blaine smiled. "I fell off of a tire swing when I was nine."

Even Kurt had to smile, but his face quickly fell back into a look of worry.  
"Not like mine," he said sadly.

"Fuck, Kurt," Blaine said agitatedly. "What can I say to make you understand? I want to be with you. I want you to see yourself the way I see you- beautiful. Stunning. Don't you get it? I- I love you, Kurt. I'm in love with you."

Blaine was breathing heavily after his rant, staring down at Kurt with absolute love and compassion. They both realized what Blaine had just said.  
There was absolute silence for a moment, and then-

"I love you too, Blaine." Kurt said, shy but firm. They stared at each other for a moment.

"Kiss me," Kurt whispered, feeling extremely vulnerable.  
Blaine's face broke into a smile. "I love you," he said again, once more being filled with the same sense of wonder. The moment he had said it he knew it was true. He loved Kurt Hummel. And Kurt loved him back.

Needing no more convincing, he leaned down, kissing Kurt fiercely. Kurt responded with just as much enthusiasm. Kurt moaned loudly as Blaine continued to kiss him, moving once more down to his neck, his hands supporting his weight on either side of Kurt's head._ Kurt was the most beautiful person in the world_, Blaine decided when he snuck a glance up at the lighter haired boy. Kurt's lips were parted, his breathing erratic, and his eyes fluttered closed as Blaine continued to kiss him. _Beautiful_.

Almost involuntarily, Blaine ground his hips down against Kurt's, causing them both to curse loudly at the much needed friction. They continued like that, kissing heatedly while Blaine thrust against Kurt, who was eagerly meeting his thrusts with his own hips.

Kurt was intensely glad he wasn't wearing skinny jeans today. Both he and Blaine were wearing sweatpants, thank God. He could feel the intensity building as he dug his fingernails into Blaine's back, forcing his hips down even more forcefully. "Oh, shit, Blaine, I'm gonna- ohhh," he gasped as he tipped over the edge, coming moments before Blaine did.

They lay there, panting as they waited for their heart rates to slow.

"Well, that was... That was intense," Blaine decided after a few minutes, swinging his legs off of the couch. Kurt sat up, sitting next to Blaine. "You love me?" He asked, just to be sure.

"Yes," Blaine confirmed. "Good," Kurt breathed. "Wow, I can hardly think straight. That was..."  
"Amazing," Blaine supplied and Kurt nodded. "We should probably go get cleaned up," Blaine suggested, and Kurt nodded, blushing a little.

"You do realize that we have to walk back through the entire building to get to our rooms?" He asked. Blaine nodded, handing Kurt his shirt and slipping on his own. "'S okay. That was worth it." Smiling, he took Kurt's hand as they walked back up the stairs to the main floor.

* * *

**Woohoo! #intense! #GottaloveSantana! Okay people, so I have good news and bad news. I'm camping for the next five days, honest-to-goodness tent camping, and the bad news is that there isn't much wifi, so I might not be able to upload the next chapter. The good news is that I will have plentry of time to write. Yay! **

**So the next chapter may or may not be up in the next couple of days. I'll try my best. **

**Love,**

**-Luna**


	15. Chapter 15

The next morning, they walked down to breakfast together, and Kurt was brave enough to hold Blaine's hand the whole way down. They were immediately bombarded by Santana and Ariella upon entering. The two seemed to be in cahoots now, having found a common cause: getting Blaine and Kurt to have as much alone time as possible. Kurt shuddered at the thought of what the two could accomplish together.

"So," Santana remarked when they sat down, "Who topped?" She sounded as though she could be taking about something as trivial as the weather. Both Blaine and Kurt blushed, which Ariella found adorable. "Yes, boys, do tell," she said, complete with her accent.

"No one topped, Santana," Kurt whispered defensively. "And keep your voice down."

"So what happened, exactly?" Ariella inquired casually, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"Yeah, come on, Anderson; you owe us!" Santana cut in. "Nice hickey, by the way."

Kurt blushed furiously.

"Do you really want to know?" Blaine asked.

"Yes!" The girls shouted in unison.

"Okay, fine," Blaine said.

Kurt shot him a death glare. He couldn't believe that his boyfriend was about to divulge details of their semi-existent sex life. "We kissed," Blaine began with a smirk, as the girls hung on to his every word, "and then we decided to play checkers. Kurt won."

The girls groaned in disappointment, Santana throwing her hands in the air and shouting something in Spanish.

"So you didn't get _anything_?" Santana cried incredulously.

"Nope," Blaine said, popping his lips on the 'p'. "We're quite boring."

Ariella nudged Kurt. "You better give me the real story later." She winked, turning back to Santana as the two girls whispered conspiratorially.

"Wow," he muttered to Blaine. "I never would have expected girls to be so interested in our sex life."

"Ah, so we have a sex life now?" Blaine inquired with mock innocence. Kurt kicked him under the table. "I'll get back to you on that later tonight," he said, pleased and the surprised look on Blaine's face.

* * *

After breakfast, Kurt had a forty-five minute therapy session, as well as group therapy after lunch. (He was not looking forward to either.)

"Hello, Kurt," Dr. Reeves greeted him as he stepped in the room.

"Hello." He replied, trying to be as pleasant as possible. The man just nodded, all business.

"So, Kurt," he began. "Have you been feeling the urges to cut since I last met with you?"

"Of course," Kurt replied hotly. "Haven't you ever had the urge to grab a spoon and have at it with a jar of Nutella?"

The therapist frowned. "I'm afraid that's quite different, Mister Hummel. You see, the urge to cut shouldn't be bringing you any feeling of pleasure. Cutting is a serious issue which can have dangerous consequences."

"Nutella addiction is also a serious issue with dangerous consequences," he replied snidely.

"How so, Mister Hummel?" he asked, clearly annoyed.

"Well, it's becoming an epidemic," he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "People everywhere aren't going to work, aren't going to school... They are being hypnotized by the magical powers of Nutella. And the consequences include high cholesterol, obesity, and, worst of all, a sugar high." He smirked at his own cleverness.

But Dr. Reeves was not amused. "Are you finished, Mister Hummel?"

"It was Kurt in the beginning, you know." He pointed out.

The counselor sighed. "My patience is wearing thin. Now, back to the issue at hand. How would you rate these urges on a scale of one to ten, one being hardly noticeable and ten being overpowering?"

"Two," Kurt replied honestly. "I just want to do it out of habit. Like, something sucks, I cut."

"Okay, so what you need to do is reduce your dependency on cutting as a means of comfort, and maybe replace it with another ritual instead. This will help to disassociate the feeling of cutting with the feeling of relief."

Kurt nodded amicably.

"Now, some patients find it helpful to wear a rubber band around their wrist and snap it when they get the urge to cut. You will still feel pain, but it's... Much less risky."

Kurt nodded, although he was thinking, _who the hell wears a rubber band on their wrist?_

"Now, do you or have you cut as a means of punishment for yourself?" The man continued.

"No," Kurt lied automatically. He didn't want the therapist to think badly of him. Didn't want him to think he's a freak who likes to hurt himself.

But then that's what cutting is, isn't it?

"I do want to stop," he told him immediately. "But not for myself. I'm sure that if I was completely alone, I wouldn't care enough to stop."

"Then who are you stopping for?"

"The people I love. I don't want to disappoint them anymore."

"You know, Kurt," he began, his tone somewhat gentler, " If you're willing to stop to protect the people you love... Then why aren't you willing to stop to protect yourself?"

"Because I-" Kurt stopped himself. _Because I don't matter like they do._

"Because you think you don't matter enough?"

_Damn it. _

Kurt just shrugged, not meeting the other man's eyes.

"Okay, Kurt. Our session is just about over. But after you leave, here's what I want you to do. Pick the person that you love the most. And I want you to think about how you would feel if the situation was reversed."

"Meaning?"

"How would you feel, if the person you love more than anyone else in the world was cutting themselves?"

Kurt paled a little.

"And please write that down for me." He handed Kurt a notebook.

"I'll see you in two days."

Kurt walked out of the office feeling somewhat nauseous.

* * *

Blaine. Blaine. He loved Blaine the most.

If Blaine were cutting? Oh my god. He would want to stay right by his side every moment to make sure he was safe. He would listen to him vent on his problems for hours, if that's what Blaine needed.

And it wouldn't matter, because Blaine would still be absolutely gorgeous, and funny and sweet. Who cares about a few lines?

Oh. Right.

But it absolutely would not matter, he would still love Blaine unconditionally... And he wouldn't be disappointed. Just sad that the person he loved felt so badly that he decided to hurt himself. Because how awful would someone have to feel that they wanted to cut their own skin open?

That's what Kurt was doing. Cutting himself open, watching the skin slice apart and bleed, and feeling the pain.

Blaine was worth something to him. And if he would do anything to help Blaine, should the tables be turned, then why wouldn't he do that much for himself?

People felt bad for him, not because he was pathetic, but because he was worth something to them.

He just realized this for the first time. He was worth something.

People were upset because they cared about him. Mercedes told a teacher because she cared about him.

The full realization of that dawned on him. Of course he knew he should think that, that he was expected to, but he hardly ever had. He knew what he needed to do to stop cutting. He needed to learn to value himself.

**Blaine**

Kurt came dashing into the library just as Blaine was turning a page in his book. He looked up, the page resting gently between his thumb and forefinger.

He dropped the book upon seeing the look on Kurt's face. It was something he had never seen before, something completely new.

It looked like... Pride. Comprehension. Realization.

"Hey," Kurt said breathlessly, sitting down next to Blaine. "I figured something out." He smiled with a look of jubilant satisfaction on his face, and Blaine had to laugh.

"Okay, go."

"Okay, well, you, um, love me, and I matter to you a lot, like a_ lot_, and you don't care about the cutting, and you don't feel disappointed in the cutting, you just love me and so you don't want me to get hurt, just like I wouldn't want you to get hurt, and-"

"Woah, woah," Blaine said, trying to process the information. "So what are you saying exactly? You know that I love you. And I would never be angry or disappointed or anything. You know that."

"Yeah," Kurt said, "Yeah, but I just _realized_ that, like if I care so much about you, then why don't I care about myself? I should, shouldn't I? All I need is a reason."

"Okay," Blaine said slowly, "if you want, I can give you a few. Reasons."

"Alright," Kurt said, his face lighting up. "Here," he thrust the notebook towards Blaine, "Write them down for me." He smiled with satisfaction, looking up at Blaine.

Blaine was so pleased that Kurt seemed to realize this. Oh, this was definitely gonna call for celebration later. Lots of it.

* * *

Blaine wrote for around ten full minutes, running his fingers over Kurt's arm with his free hand.

When he finished, he intertwined his fingers with Kurt's and waited.

A thousand emotions flitted across Kurt's face as he read what Blaine had written. Joy, confusion, embarrassment, relief, understanding, pride, love.

Most of all love.

Kurt looked up when he was finished.

"I love you," he said. "I really, really, love you, Blaine Anderson."

And Blaine would have smiled at Kurt's adorable enthusiasm but he really couldn't, because Kurt leaned over and pressed his lips firmly against Blaine's. For a second, Blaine remembered they were in the library for goodness' sakes but _damn_, that felt way too good.

He pulled away after a few seconds because they WERE in the library, after all, and although they were hidden by several bookshelves, making out there was not the best idea.

"I'm going to help you stop," Blaine said firmly. "We can do this together."

"How can I stop, Blaine? I've been doing it for years and, well, it feels really good. No matter what happens, I'll always have that."

"What about me?" Blaine asked lightly, although he felt kind of hurt. "You'll always have me."

Kurt sighed. "You and I both know that you can't promise that, Blaine.

Blaine stared at him earnestly. "Kurt, I will stay with you for as long as you'll have me. And no matter if that's a week or a year or a lifetime, I will be here. Do you trust me?"

Kurt thought it over. "Yes," he said honestly, and for once he had something to really hope for.

BLAINE'S REASONS

Kurt, you should care about yourself because you're the most amazing person I know. You're funny, and you're really brave, despite the fact that you don't think so. I honestly never thought I would find a boyfriend. But then there you were that first day in the library, and I'd never seen anyone with eyes as many different colors as yours. As I thought to myself, _that boy is absolutely perfect,_ and it turns out I was right. And I fell in love with you; I fell really, really hard. And I didn't plan to say it last night but it just sort of slipped out the moment I said it I knew it was true.

I didn't regret it, not at all. And I loved last night. I didn't think it would even be possible for you to look more beautiful than you already do, but watching you fall apart like that was both the most gorgeous and sexy thing I had ever seen. You can sing really well, too, and I think I'd like to do a duet with you sometime. You must know that no one has a voice like yours Kurt, no one. And you can speak French perfectly. You have so much talent.

I love the way you smile or the way you frown while you contemplate a way to improve your sketches. I love you when you're so tired you're practically falling asleep and I love you when you complain about being woken up in the morning, but you get up on time anyways. And some day I want to sleep next to you with my arms wrapped around you all night long. I think I could do that every night for the rest of my life and I would never get tired of it.

And you put up with me being ridiculous and seriously, for anyone to want to date a guy with hair like mine is a small miracle. So as soon as we get out of here, I'm taking you on a real date and we can talk about whatever you want, and no matter want people say I'll hold your hand anyways because I'm absolutely proud to be your boyfriend.

So yeah. I feel super awkward now.

-Blaine 3

Okay. I know the little heart was pretty lame, but I don't care.

Okay.

* * *

**Oh hey there. One of the longest chapters ever! i kinda know where I'm going with this story, but i would love suggestions! ****Review if you want more!**

**So if this chapter is up, it means I have found one bar of wifi and am clinging to it for dear life... **

**Now, an important message from our sponsor:**

**The Nutella Epidemic is a real and serious issue. If you feel that you or a loved one may have contracted the disease, please call our toll-free hotline at 1-800-NUTELLA. **

**;) I'm so funny, aren't I? **

**- Luna**


	16. Chapter 16

**Kurt**

Burt and Finn visited on Saturday, since Carole had to work late at the hospital. Thankfully, they didn't interrogate him on Blaine, although Burt did shoot him a pointed look and tell him to "be safe." Kurt declined to point out that a) he wasn't having sex, and b) there were no condoms available at a mental facility, because he didn't want to further the discussion.

Finn seemed incredibly relived that Kurt felt better, giving him a hug and saying, "Keep getting better so you can come home soon, bro."

It was a nice gesture, and it made Kurt a little sad when he realized that he hardly even knew Finn. Sure, they lived together, but Kurt didn't talk very much to anyone. He would have a lot of changes to make when he went home.

* * *

On Sunday they went to the pool with Ariella, who ended up refusing to get in on the premise that she had to wear a bathing suit.

"I'm not skinny enough," she said blatantly.

"Yes, you are," Kurt repeated patiently. The conversation had been going in circles for ten minutes."I promise. Everyone thinks you look perfect. Please?"

She shook her head.

Blaine also tried to persuade her, but was not successful.

And when someone as charming as Blaine was unsuccessful, well, Kurt figured there was nothing else he could do.

"I'm not taking your word for it! Gay guys don't care about how girls look. But other people see, and they're gonna stare, and they're gonna think I'm ugly, I'm the fattest girl here-"

Ariella looked about ready to tear her hair out; she was hyperventilating and muttering to herself.

"Enough of this already!" Santana came striding out from the changing room, clad in a red bikini. "Is she still freaking out?!"

Kurt nodded, eyeing Santana cautiously. She looked more agitated than Kurt had ever seen her before, although nothing compared to Ariella, who was now crying.

"Look, Ari," Santana said, striding over to Ariella. When she didn't look up, Santana placed her hands on the shorter girl's shoulders and shook her gently. Ariella looked up, tears sliding slowly down her face.

"What?" She asked timidly.

"You. Are. Beautiful." Santana told her seriously.

And then Santana leaned in and kissed her.

Kurt's jaw dropped. He felt Blaine tense up beside him. No one had expected it, least of all Ariella, judging from the way her hands clenched and unclenched, dropping her swimsuit on the tile floor.

"Oh my god," Santana gasped, pulling away. "Shit, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have done that-"

Ariella just stared at her in wonderment.

"I'm gonna go get changed," she whispered after a moment. Then she turned on her heels, running as quickly as she could on the slippery floor.

Kurt glanced over at Blaine, who was wearing an astounded expression that was quite similar to his own. Then he looked at Santana. In the few weeks he had known her, he had never seen her with such a lack of composure. Never, _never_ did she break free from her bad-girl personality. Not once had he seen her with emotions so raw, so honest, so _caring_. He felt as though he had just seen something very private, something not many people got to see. Not the kissing, but the emotion. The love behind her actions.

It was terrifying and amazing at the same time.

* * *

**Santana**

Santana was a wreck. She had just kissed Ari. Who was straight. Who was probably going to hate her. And Santana would not, could not lose her as a friend. Being in a mental facility, she had very few.

She hadn't meant to get herself locked up here. Growing up in Lima Heights Adjacent, drugs were a common issue in the neighborhood. And readily available, if you knew where to look. She hasn't meant to get involved, truly. She had just hung out with the wrong crowd, and one thing led to another, and, well, she got caught. And landed here.

Then Ari came along. Ari, who was always laughing and smiling, kind and innocent and everything Santana wasn't. Truthfully, it had kind of annoyed her at first. She was too nice, too perfect. But then they got closer, started to become friends, especially since Kurt had arrived.

The two girls were around each other because they were friends with Blaine and Kurt, and sometimes had found themselves alone together. They had bonded over watching the obvious sexual tension unfold between the the two boys. And Ariella clearly wasn't homophobic. Santana had watched her, after her own feelings became apparent, for some sign that Ariella could possibly feel the same way. She hadn't found any, but she had noticed a thing or two.

Like Ariella's look of intense concentration when she painted. Or the way she would laugh, her eyes lighting up when Santana told a joke, making the butterflies in Santana's stomach flutter in a way that was rather pleasant.

Little things like those.

Of course, Santana didn't intend to tell her. Didn't want to freak her out, push her away, or feel the pain of an 'I'm sorry, but I don't think we can be friends anymore.'

But lately, something had started to break within her. Her resolve, perhaps. Or her patience. Maybe a little bit of both. Seeing Ariella like that, seeing her wrapped up in a cocoon of despair and self-loathing, well, it broke her heart.

And she acted on an impulse. Now it would take all of her strength to fix it.

But for one second, for one brief, glorious second, Ari had kissed her back.

She knew she hadn't imagined it.

Ariella came out of the girls' changing room, looking terrified as she attempted to cover as much of her skin as possible. Santana tried not to stare, not wanting to make the other girl uncomfortable. But, damn, that girl was gorgeous.

Before she could say something, Blaine bounded over and whispered something to her. Ariella shook her head frantically. She tried to protest, but Blaine, who was probably only five inches taller than she was, scooped her up in his arms and carried her, flailing and protesting, toward the pool.

Smirking evilly, he dropped her.

_For such a small girl, she made a very big splash_, Santana thought.

Ariella surfaced, pushing her hair out of her eyes and spitting out water.

"Blaine Devon Anderson, I will kill you in your sleep!" She exclaimed, but she looked as though she was fighting back a smile. "You're welcome, your highness!" He shouted, grinning. She just rolled her eyes, allowing the smile to sneak onto her face.

"Come on, people," Blaine laughed, pulling Kurt toward the pool. "Let's get wet!"

Kurt followed somewhat reluctantly and they jumped into the deep end of the pool.

_Please, God, let everything be okay,_ Santana thought, and then she jumped into the pool after them.

* * *

**Okay, I know that's its late, but it's still today! And here is your chapter! **

**After I made it back from my crazy camping trip, I had a ton of stuff to do because I'm also moving in a week or two. I hope this plot twist is okay! So, here's what you need to do: everybody leave a comment and vote. **

**Your options are A) develop the Santana/Ariella romance or B) have them just stay friends. **

**You decide! **

**Love you all for sticking with me! Next chapter will be M rated, just a warning (not that anyone's not excited for that!) **

**:) Luna **


	17. Chapter 17

**Okay, so the results of the poll were all in favor of continuing the romance! Now, I know I promised this chapter was going to be M-rated, but it just made more sense plot-wise to split the chapter in half and address the Ari/Santana issue, since it just happened. **

**But there will be lovely Klaine sexual activities tomorrow. For sure this time. **

**Here we go!**

* * *

**Kurt**

Kurt was more than a little shocked after the whole Ari-Santana kissing episode. After teasing Blaine profusely about his middle name (Devon? Really?) and hanging out in the pool, they all had group therapy to attend.

Santana and Ariella sat apart, not really making eye contact while the others shared their recent 'problems' with the group. The sitting-on-a-carpet-in-a-circle thing felt a little bit degrading in Kurt's opinion, and he didn't really feel like sharing with the four other students, whose names he wasn't quite certain of. He was pretty sure the tall brunette boy was named Jason (he had a room two doors down from Kurt's) and the goth-looking girl was Liza Something.

With as much patience as he could muster, he listened to them all share how they were feeling (fine, alright, okay, no comment, good in Kurt's case, confused in Ari's, a bitch glare from Santana and a charming smile from Blaine.) "Perfect," his boyfriend declared, shooting a suggestive glance in Kurt's direction.

Kurt knew that look. It was the I'm-gonna-kiss-you-senseless-as-soon-as-possible look, and it was one of his favorites. But he shook his head, mouthed 'later' and continued to pay attention to the therapy session.

After it was finished, Kurt pulled Ariella aside. He waved Blaine away, probably killing any chances of a later make-out session, but his best friend was more important at the moment.

"Do you wanna talk?" He asked gently.

Ariella shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, okay."

He smiled and motioned for her to follow him, heading for the library.

They sat on a couch toward the back, behind the computers. There were only three other people, all of whom had headphones on, so they stood little chance of being overheard.

"So." Kurt began. "I take it you were as surprised as I was?"

Ariella nodded. "Yeah, wasn't expecting that at all."

"Did you know she was lesbian?"

"I knew, but I didn't really think about it very much. I had no idea that she liked me, if she even does."

"How did you feel about it?"

"The kiss?"

Kurt nodded.

Ariella turned bright red and shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well, do you identify as straight, or bisexual, or what?"

Ariella shrugged again. "I don't know. I mean, I've never had a problem with it obviously... I've dated a few boys, but they all couldn't handle my, ah, _problems_. In fact, that's how I got caught and sent here."

Kurt nodded grimly. _Been there, done that. _

"So... Do you think it's possible you could like her?"

"I don't know. I mean, it felt kinda... Good..." She blushed again. "But does she even like me? It might have just been a spur-of-the-moment type thing."

"Trust me," Kurt told her, "Santana wouldn't just kiss anybody. She may act all promiscuous, but she isn't, not really. I think she must really like you."

Ariella looked the slightest bit terrified at this.

"Kurt, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course you can." He touched her arm lightly. "You're my best friend."

She nodded, smiling at his kindness. "How did you know?"

Kurt frowned. "I'm not sure. I think I always knew, deep down, that girls just didn't interest me. But when people started dating, at the beginning of high school, I guess I just said 'Yup, I'm gay,' because I had absolutely no desire to date girls."

"Sorry," he winced, "Was that a terrible explanation?"

"No," the she laughed, "Not at all. And... How does it feel? Doesn't it get horribly depressing, living in Ohio and being out of the metaphorical closet?"

Kurt smiled a little at her terminology, though in truth the situation was far from funny.

"Well, in case you haven't noticed the multiple scars on my arms..." He smiled weakly but it looked more like a grimace. "It's been hard," he said simply.

She nodded. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to kiss her and see if I feel anything."

Kurt blinked. "Well, okay, if you wanna face it head on."

She smiled. "Did you expect anything different?"

* * *

**Ariella**

"Um, hey. Santana. Hi."

Ariella walked up to Santana awkwardly. She was in the downstairs game room, playing air hockey with Blaine. The Latina girl looked positively murderous, her eyes bright and her shoulders set firmly in place. She was defending her goal ferociously, sending the puck flying wildly in all directions. Blaine seemed to have given up.

She looked up, her gaze softening. "Hi, Ari," she said, voice full of caution but with a hint of her usual friendliness behind it.

"Can you come talk to me?" The pretty blonde inquired anxiously.

Santana nodded wordlessly, the puck rebounding and flying straight into her goal while her back was turned.

"Here, I'll just go." Blaine, who seemed to have been forgotten, hurried up the stairs. If the girls were going to get in a fight, he didn't want to be there for it.

The door clicked shut. Ariella looked up at Santana, suddenly realizing just how much taller the Latina girl was.

"Kiss me," she ordered, staring at Santana imploringly.

"Wha-are you sure?" she asked.

Ariella nodded. Santana nodded too, leaning in very fast and oh, wow, she was kissing her.

Ari froze for a moment before reciprocating, slowly moving her lips against Santana's. The taller girl gently wrapped her arms around Ari's waist. It felt... Different. Good? Not like kissing either of her boyfriends had been. But it wasn't just like kissing a friend, like kissing Kurt or Blaine might be. She... Felt something.

Santana pulled back, looking into Ari's eyes searchingly.

"Was that... Okay?" She asked, her voice slightly rough. Her eyes were over-bright, looking as though she were about to cry. Ariella thought it over. The kiss had been very sweet, very gentle. Nothing like Santana's usual personality. But, like everyone, Santana surely put up those walls to protect herself. Ari was dying to know what she was like on the inside, without the witty sense of humor or the snarkiness.

"It was perfect," Ari replied honestly. "I've never really been kissed by someone who..."

"Cares about you?" Santana asked, and Ari nodded. There was silence for a moment.

**Santana**

"Do you think you could, y'know, like me? Like a girl at all?" Santana asked, afraid to hear the answer. _It's going to be no. The dreaded rejection. _

Ari nodded slowly. "I think I could," she said. "Yes. I guess I never really thought about it before, being... Gay. Lesbian. Whatever. But I don't have a problem with it?" She raised the end of the sentence up like a question.

"I really like you, Ari," Santana whispered. God, this was awkward.

"I know."

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Kiss me."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Okay." Santana leaned in and kissed her, smiling ever so slightly.

This time, Ari didn't hesitate to kiss her back. Maybe, _maybe_ everything would be okay.

* * *

**Okay, I know where I'm going with this story now. There should be about thirty chapters total. Just to let y'all know. :) reviews are greatly appreciated! M- rated next chapter. Pinky swear. **

**;) see you all tomorrow! **

**Luna**


	18. Chapter 18

The only eventful thing to occur on Monday began at lunch. They were all eating in the courtyard, watching the other patients and trying to determine why they were there.

"He's a schizophrenic," Santana suggested, pointing to a younger dark-haired boy. She was sitting next to Ariella, fingers intertwined. Kurt couldn't help but smile. As much as it pained him to admit it, Santana was good for Ari.

The blonde girl nodded seriously, scanning the tables for someone else. "Ooh," she whispered excitedly. "Look at her." She was pointing to a brown-haired girl with a much too low-cut shirt and a mini skirt. "She's a sex addict."

Santana smirked. "I always wondered what it would be like to be a sex addict. I mean, isn't everyone, at one level or another? Where's the cutoff? I mean, sex is all _boys_ think about." She shot Kurt and Blaine a knowing look. "Right, boys? Do you think you qualify?"

Kurt stuck out his tongue at her. "Oh, very true," Blaine joked, leaning over to capture Kurt's lips in a heated kiss. Their tongues were sliding together and Blaine moaned softly, forgetting their audience for a moment. Not to mention that they were in the middle of the courtyard. _Whoops_.

"Sorry, love, that was my fault. Although you did distract me quite a bit." He smiled at Kurt.

Santana and Ariella were staring at them, eyes wide and mouths hanging open in a comical fashion.

"You can't tell me you guys haven't done it yet," Santana said after a moment. "I mean, that was HOT." Ariella giggled, elbowing Santana. "You guys are so adorable it's nauseating."

Kurt was going to stick out his tongue but decided against it, not wanting to start a sex riot in the courtyard. God knows what that would do to Blaine.

"Hey Santana," Blaine said casually, "D'you think you could accompany us to the game room tonight? There have to be at least three people, after all. And we wouldn't want to break the rules." He winked at her.

"Alright." She considered the proposition. "What's in it for me?" She questioned, as if daring him to reply.

"We'll give you details," Kurt piped up, and although he didn't exactly want to tell them he really, really wanted a repeat of Friday night. He crossed his fingers under the table, feeling like a middle schooler.

Blaine looked at Kurt in surprise. "Really?"

He nodded, not at all serious. "Maybe, if they're really scandalous, the girls will never ask again."

Blaine shrugged. "It's worth a shot!" He declared brightly, taking Kurt's hand and squeezing it excitedly.

* * *

Later that evening, they cleared their plan to go to the game room with Gina, who easily complied. Kurt also had a feeling she wouldn't go investigate them either, which was a major plus.

After staying down there for ten minutes or so, Santana and Ariella carefully snuck back upstairs, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone.

"Hey," Kurt said, looking up at Blaine. He stepped forward and kissed his boyfriend roughly, wrapping his hands around the shorter boy's waist. Kurt opened his mouth, allowing Blaine to slip his tongue in. God, this felt amazing.

"Thank you for the letter the other day," he whispered when they broke apart. He looked into Blaine's eyes searchingly. His pupils were blown, eyes completely dark and full of lust.

"You're welcome," Blaine replied, leaning in for another kiss. "No," Kurt said, pushing him back gently, "ThanK you." He ran his fingers lightly over the front of Blaine's jeans, which looked uncomfortably tight already. Blaine groaned a little, thrusting toward Kurt's fingers.

"Patience," Kurt whispered, grabbing Blaine's wrist and dragging him toward the couch.

"I hope you know how sexy it is when you act confident like this," Blaine told him as they unfastened their shirts.

Kurt smirked. "Alright, then. Take your pants off." He deadpanned.

Blaine's eyes widened but he quickly complied, slipping off his jeans. Kurt took off his own skinnyjeans, which were becoming tighter by the minute. "Underwear, too," he added, trying his best not to lose his nerve.

Thankfully, Blaine didn't question the order, and OH. Holy shit. Blaine was big, bigger than be was for sure, and _wow this was both terrifying and exhilarating all at once._ Blaine laid on the couch, motioning for Kurt to straddled Blaine's hips, reaching up to grab Blaine's hands.

"What are you-?" Blaine questioned, but Kurt grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the couch behind his head.

"Fuck," Blaine said. "I think I'll have to write you love letters more often.

Kurt only smiled, leaning forward to kiss Blaine's neck as he grabbed Blaine's cock with his right hand and began to slide his hand up it tentatively. "Oh!" Blaine gasped. "Faster, please."

Kurt was absolutely out of his depth here, but he figured _oh, what the hell_ and continued. He had too much adrenaline at this point to really consider stopping.

He pumped Blaine's cock roughly, until he came with a shout; all over Kurt's hand.

Blaine lay there, panting, and then looked up at Kurt with absolute adoration in his eyes. "I love you."

Kurt smiled. "Love you too." Then he frowned.

"Oh, my god," Kurt said, blushing, "I just gave you a handjob. God, that's embarrassing." He buried his face is his hands.

"Don't be embarrassed, love," Blaine said. "That was incredibly sexy."

"I'm not an incredibly sexy person. I've never done any of this, and-"

"It's alright; neither have I," Blaine replied calmly. "I didn't expect it to feel that good." He winked. "Now, what can I do you you?"

Kurt tensed a little. He had been so focused on pleasuring Blaine that he hasn't considered what he wanted in return. He deliberated for a moment.

"Nothing. I just need to cool down for a minute."

Blaine raised eyebrows questioningly. "Okay..." He said.

Kurt blushed even deeper, removing his hands from his face. "We are gonna have to tell the girls about this, you know."

Blaine laughed lightly, "Ariella's wise beyond her years, and Santana's not exactly a prude. But it'll still be funny to see the looks on their faces."

They cuddled for a while, after Kurt turned down Blaine's offer of getting him off. He wasn't ready for that yet, wasn't ready for Blaine to see him. It was funny how he let Blaine see his scars, trusted him that much, but didn't want something as simple as a hand job. It just wasn't something he had even considered, not really. He had never even seen himself as having a boyfriend. And somewhere deep down, a part of himself said _you don't deserve it._ Even though he knew that wasn't true, he still couldn't shake the feeling. He would need to deal with that later.

_Soon_, he told himself, _but not yet. Not till I can care about myself. _

* * *

Eventually, there was a knock on the door, followed by the sound of two girls giggling. "Are you naked?!" Ariella laughed hysterically from the other side of the door.

"No, come in!" Kurt shouted back. Ari and Santana came racing down the stairs, almost tripping in their haste to get to the boys.

"Tell us everything!" Ari giggled, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

Santana smirked evilly, clearly about to ask some deeply personal and rather perverteway question, but Ari gave her a warning look and some sort of silent exchange seemed to happen between them. Finally, Santana nodded and looked over at the boys, who were seated on the couch.

"Okay," Santana began, "Apparently Ari thinks we should be respectful," -she looked as though she strongly disagreed- "So I'm not gonna make you tell us anything. If you don't want to."

Ari looked pleased that Santana had actually listened to her. Kurt was surprised. It seemed Ariella had a lot more power over Santabs than anyone else did. It was rather heartwarming, actually. Or maybe it was just a huge relief.

"Okay." Kurt said, standing up

Ariella's eyes suddenly got very wide. She nudged Santana and pointed toward the couch, promptly bursting into a fit of giggles, covering her face with her hands and shaking uncontrollably. Santana seemed to realize what she was looking at and opened her mouth to say something, but then noticed Ariella next to her, who seemed to be having a fit. She just smiled fondly at her girlfriend.

"Well, boys, I don't know about you, but we're headed to the pool. Wanna... Come?"

She put extra emphasis on the final word, and luckily Ari didn't seem to notice the inappropriate word choice. The blond girl coughed loudly. "I, need, a drink- water," she managed to say between laughs.

Santana only cast them a 'we'll talk about this later' look as sme followed the other girl up the stairs.

Kurt sighed, rolling his eyes in a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. "God, Santana looked so smug. I wonder what she would say if she knew what we were really doing fifteen minutes ago. And I wonder why Ari was laughing so much. Must be an inside joke." He shook his head at the insanity of their two best friends.

Blaine stood up, not looking remotely amused by what Kurt just said. The taller boy frowned. "What's wrong?"

Blaine turned bright red. "I think they know a little more that we intended."

Still not making eye contact with Kurt, he gestured in the direction of the couch.

Kurt followed his gaze, gasping sharply when he realized what had prompted their odd behavior.

"Oh, shit." Kurt swore loudly.

There was come on the couch. Whoops. He looked over at Blaine, who seemed torn between amusement and horror, a look that didn't suit him very well.

"We're screwed." He said quietly. Kurt couldn't even answer. He was never going to be able to look either San or Ari in the eyes again. Oh, they were completely screwed.

* * *

**So sorry. It's been a crazy week. Just found out I'm not moving, had to get my eyes dilated at the optometrist's and have a really big exam to study for. Sigh. **

**So sad about Cory Monteith! This really sucks. :'(**

**Oh and btw, the title is from Demi Lovato's song ****_Warrior. _****Don't know why I didn't mention that yet! **

**¡Hasta Luego!**

**-Luna**


	19. Chapter 19

**Ariella**

Ariella didn't know why she was falling for Santana. It was honestly rather crazy, because a week ago she never would have even looked at a girl. Well, she had looked at girls before, but that didn't mean anything, did it? She had always convinced herself she was just admiring and critiquing their clothes and makeup. She never thought anything negative toward the girls she looked at. She was never jealous, and she never insulted them.

It was funny that someone so judgmental of herself could be so accepting of everyone else, including her ex-drug dealer girlfriend.

Oh, wow. Ex-drug dealer girlfriend. Her Mom wouldn't be too pleased with that.

The lesbian or bisexual or whatever she was thing though? Her mom would be okay. She had a lesbian aunt and two gay cousins; no one would mind.

Anyway.

She wasn't sure why Santana liked her. She switched accents at least once a day (although for some reason, she never felt she needed to do that when they were alone together,

strangely enough.)

And she did have issues, just like the roughly 100 kids here, and they weren't exactly easy to handle. And yet Santana didn't mind. It was rather helpful to be dating a girl, actually, because San understood her motivation a lot better than a boy would. Boys wanted their girlfriends to be supermodel thin, but Santana understood all of the pressure from society and whatnot. Santana was familiar with cutting calories herself- after all, she had been a cheerleader. But her girlfriend didn't care how much she weighed; she thought Ariella very pretty and told her so on a daily basis.

And soon Ariella would be going home. She really missed her mom, her chocolate lab puppy, and her brother, in that order. The counselors and specialists and various other idiots "on the board" had already cleared her to eat unsupervised. After nearly eight weeks here, a very long stay by any standards, she was going to go home.

Now she had to find a way to tell Santana.

* * *

**Santana**

Santana had only been there three weeks, but this wasn't her first time in the rehab facility. Well, she figured it was better than juvenile detention, so that was good.

She knew she had missed too much school- she would probably have to repeat her senior year.

She knew that Ariella, who was everything Santana was not, had been having her work sent to her via her mom, and had been emailing it to the teachers. She would certainly be able to graduate, and then they would both be seniors together. At different schools. Ari went to Crawford County Day School, which sounded like paradise (living with two hundred girls? Awesome) and Santana went to South High School, right near Columbus. It was only a twenty-eight minute drive, so they would be fine.

But she was gonna miss spending all day with her. Therefore, they had to make the most of their time together, since Santana found out she would be leaving in a week. Wednesday the twenty-seventh.

* * *

She caught up with her gorgeous girlfriend after therapy, greeting her with a hug.

"Hey." She smiled, looking down at Ari. God, she was falling hard.

Ari looked back up at her, her eyes slightly red. "Thanks, I needed that."

"What's wrong?" Santana asked worriedly.

"There's something I need to tell you."

Oh, god. A million thoughts were coursing through Santana's mind right now, none of them good.

"What is it?"

"I'm leaving." She smiled a little. "I'm going home."

"Oh my god, that's great! I can't wait to take you on a real date. I've never really gone on a date before actually-"

"You haven't?" Ari asked, arching an eyebrow.

Santana blushed a little. "No, um, I don't usually do, long-term, ah, relationships."

She felt guilty. Embarrassed. Hell, she usually took pride in the number of people she hooked up with- boys and girls. But now she just felt pathetic. Slutty. Definitely not good enough for sweet, innocent Ariella.

Ariella nodded. "I kind of figured."

Santana couldn't even meet her eyes. Why would Ari want her? Ari wasn't even into girls until Santana kissed her. God, she hoped she hadn't permanently messed Ariella's life up.

"Anyway," Santana muttered, wanting to change the subject, "I'm leaving too. Wednesday after next."

Ariella's face brightened. "Really? I'm leaving a week from Friday."

"Oh, good. Two days is manageable."

Santana smiled, feeling a bit better.

"Wanna celebrate?" Ariella smirked.

"Okay," Santana said, trying not to get her hopes up. Everything between then had consisted of meaningful conversations and semi-innocent kisses. And while those were nice, Santana did want... other things. But she didn't want to mess this up. Ariella wasn't some random hookup. She meant something. Santana knew she was well on her way to falling in love.

"Okay. Where do you want to go?"

"Your room maybe?"

"Okay."

They didn't hold hands as they walked up the stairs; didn't want to appear suspicious. But no one was around anyway. They passed the boys' rooms, turned down the hall and unlocked Santana's room.

Santana shut and locked the door behind them- didn't want to get caught- and followed Ari to the bed. Were they going to have sex? They had only been together a couple of days. But then Ari laid down on the bed, looking adorable and sexy at the same time.

Santana smiled, leaning over to kiss Ari and sliding on the bed at the same time. She was straddling Ari's hips and supporting her own weight with one arm.

"You are so beautiful," she said in between kisses. Ariella smiled against her lips. "Thank you." She replied shyly.

Santana smiled back, slipping her tongue into her girlfriend's mouth. Ari allowed it, Santana continuing to kiss her very sloppily as she tried to shift into a better position. It wasn't working. "Hey, Ari?" Santana pulled back. "My arm is falling asleep. Do you think you could sit up a bit more?"

"Sure," Ari replied, sliding back towards the headboard and stacking the pillows behind her. She lay back against them, making what was probably a forty-five degree angle or something- Santana never did too well in math- and leaning back against them.

"Perfect." Santana straddled Ari's waist again and looked down at her girlfriend. She looked positively debauched, her blonde hair looking wild and her blue eyes sparkling. Her lips were pink and swollen from all the kissing, and dear god Santana just couldn't help herself, so she leaned forward to kiss her again. Their lips moved together heatedly, and Santana couldn't help but slip her hands under Ari's lacy blue shirt. Ari's lips stopped moving for a second, but Santana was too absorbed to notice. She trailed her fingers along the shorter girl's back, easily reaching up to unhook her bra as she had done with so many others before. Ariella stiffened, squirming uncomfortably, but Santana's mind didn't really register it, slipping her left hand up under the front of the bra-

And Ari reached up her hand and shoved her backward, hard.

Santana jumped at the sudden force, her hands sliding off of Ari. She fell backward rather ungracefully, her ass landing right on top of her girlfriend's knees.

"Ah," she winced. "What the hell was that for?"

Ari looked furious. "What was THAT for? I don't know, maybe the fact that you were trying to feel me up!"

"But what's wrong with that? I thought you wanted to 'celebrate'!" Santana was confused.

"I'm not ready for that! You should have asked me!" Ari was breathing quickly, looking about ready to cry.

Shit.

"Well, how was I supposed to know?"

Santana got off the bed and stood up defensively.

"You should have asked my permission!"

"I didn't think I had to! I thought the understanding when you get on a bed with someone is that sex will happen!" Santana shouted angrily.

"Maybe for you! Or did you forget that you like to hop into bed with anyone who looks your way?!"

"Oh, yeah?!" Santana screeched. She was practically seething with race at this point. "At least I'm not an awkward virgin like you!"

Ariella recoiled as though she had been slapped. Both girls stared at each other as though they couldn't believe what Santana had said. Then Ariella burst into tears.

"I'm sorry, okay?" she sobbed. "I'm sorry that I'm not good enough for you! I'm sorry that no one has ever really wanted me that way! I'm sorry that I wasn't ever pretty enough, or skinny enough, or any of it! And most of all, I'm sorry for thinking I might mean something to you!"

Without another word, Ariella slid off the bed and ran out of the room, tears tracing their way down her face. Santana was left alone next to the bed, the silence of Ariella's departure ringing in her ears.

* * *

**Sorry for the cliffhanger. I got kinda sidetracked writing the end of this story, and so... Yeah. Hope that wasn't too painful. Santana is gonna ask Blaine's advice in the next chapter, and maybe more klaine sex, but no promises.**

**i love everyone who follows, favorites and reviews!**

**- a very exhausted Luna, who apologizes for any major grammatical errors **


	20. Chapter 20

**Blaine**

"Blaine. I need to talk to you. Now."

Blaine looked up from the book he had been reading, smiling at Santana. His smile quickly changed into a frown as he watched Santana. She looked on the verge of tears; the likes of which he had never seen before.

"What's wrong?" He asked hurriedly.

"I, I need, I screwed up, oh god-" she was almost hyperventilating at this point.

"San? Come here," Blaine instructed, holding out his arms. She fell into him, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Shh, it's okay," he soothed. "What happened?"

"I messed up. Have you ever messed up? With- with Kurt? Cause I just messed up, with Ari, and I was wondering, what would you-" her voice broke and she resumed her sobbing.

She released him after a moment and stepped back. "I'm sorry." She wiped the tears off her face with one hand, only succeeding in smearing her mascara even more. Blaine was glad that guys didn't wear makeup, because that looked pretty messy, and he wouldn't want that all over his face. Contrary to popular belief he did cry, more often than he would like to admit.

Santana seemed to notice Blaine zoning out on her. "I should go," she said, turning to leave.

"No, wait! You can talk to me. Come over here." He smiled at her warmly. "Come on, let's talk. One gay to another?"

She laughed a little. "Oh, fine, Anderson. But you don't get to tell anyone about this. Not even Kurt. Okay?"

"Okay." He smiled, gesturing for her to sit next to him. They sat on the carpet behind a bookshelf.

"Have you ever messed up really bad? With Kurt, or with- someone else?"

"How do you mean?" Blaine asked.

"I, um," she blushed, "how exactly do I say this? I pushed Ari... too far."

"Oh," Blaine said, "You mean...?"

"Yeah," Santana said softly, "We were kissing and I... Misunderstood how far she planned to go. I sort of... Tried to take her bra off." Santana laughed humorlessly. Even in a state of hysteria, she still had no problem saying the first thing that came to mind. Even if it was a bit of an over-share.

Blaine winced sympathetically. He generally went by the rule to never remove any clothing without permission. And Ari most definitely would want to take things slow. Especially since she had never been with a girl. He nodded at Santana. "Yeah, that probably wasn't a great decision."

The Latina girl grimaced. "I honestly just got caught up in the moment... And stopped paying attention to her, and just did what I wanted. And I feel awful."

Blaine squeezed her hand reassuringly. "You're going to feel awful for a little while. What happened afterward?"

"She yelled at me," Santana told him. "I mean, she had every right to. And I yelled back... I said some things... I was pretty rude. I should have just apologized, but instead I got defensive and I shouldn't have. And now everything's fucked up."

She looked at Blaine. "Am I completely screwed?"

Blaine shook his head slowly. It was a lot to process, but he knew Ari. He knew Santana.

"The important thing is that you're sorry," he explained. "I can tell you feel really bad about it."

She gave him a _'no shit'_ look but let him continue.

"I think, that if you tell Ari what you just told me, she'll be able to forgive you. I don't think she can stay mad at you forever."

Santana nodded, standing up. Blaine did so as well. "I'll do that. Thanks for... Thanks for listening," she said awkwardly. Blaine nodded. "I'm happy to. You're my friend, Santana."

He leaned forward and hugged her. She was caught off guard, but slowly reciprocated. That made Blaine smile a little. Santana wasn't nearly as cold and heartless as she might seem. He released her, and the hard, fiery look was back in her eyes again. "Now, if you tell Hummel, or anyone at all, about this chat, I will personally slit your throat with my razor-sharp fingernails. Understood?"

Blaine smirked in amusement, but he agreed. And with that, Santana turned on her heel and marched out the door, stepping back into her full-on confident bitch personality. Blaine didn't mind. He knew she had a soft side. And hopefully, she could show that to Ari as well.

* * *

Blaine hoped he would never get into a fight with Kurt. He loved the taller boy, and everything about him. He would never be anything less than honest about who he was and how he felt. That was the foundation for a good relationship.

He picked up his book and sat down, intent on finishing the next chapter before Kurt got out of therapy. Then it hit him: there was a lot he hadn't told Kurt. Hell, Santana knew more about his past than Kurt did. He knew Kurt was too polite to ask. But he deserved to know, didn't he?

Blaine sighed, making up his mind. He was going to tell Kurt about his family if it killed him. Maybe it would.

* * *

**Hello. Short little chapter for y'all. Next chapter contains sexual things of the klaine variety. Mm hmm. You know you love me. **

**Anyway- I'm super busy lately. I have an exam next week, and them I'm in summer camps. Hopefully I'll finish this story by the end of August. There should be around ten more chapters! **

**And if everyone follows, favorites, and reviews, the next chapter will be posted tomorrow.**

**If not... Then I guess you'll have to wait ;P**

**love you guys for sticking with me! **

**xoxoxo Luna **


	21. Chapter 21, whatever this is

**Ariella**

Ariella bounced one tennis-shoe encased foot in the air. Her legs were crossed at the ankles as she sat on a high bar-stool in front of her girlfriend. They were seated in the art room, and Santana was currently taking her attention away from a watercolor she was painting. Out the window to her left she could see the road that ran parallel to the front of the building. A blue car streaked by, going much too fast for the speed limit. Water splashed toward the sides of the road in the car's wake; it was raining. It was raining rather hard in fact. One might even call it a torrential downpour.

Ari smiled. That was fun to say.

"Torrential downpour," she muttered to herself, dipping her brush into the green paint. She began to paint an oak tree, still ignoring the girl next to her. She glanced at her out of the corner of her eye.

Santana was observing her carefully, probably trying to gauge her mood. Ari kept her face impassive. She wished Santana would leave.

But of course the odds weren't in her favor at the moment.

"Torrential downpour?" Santana asked softly. "Why'd you say that?"

Ari tensed upon hearing Santana. She had been enjoying the quiet. Now she had to speak with the girl who thought she was a 'pathetic virgin'.

She was a virgin, and she took pride in that fact. None of the guys she had dated were worth her time, anyway. Leo had been her first boyfriend, and he had been an asshole. She dated Sam for two months, but it ended when she had to be sent home after fainting in gym class, twice in the same week. When she started to get teased, he dumped her for a prettier girl with a cleaner image. That only set her off; she starved herself down to 700 calories a day in hopes he would take her back. Then there was Caleb a few months later, he transferred from Oregon and took a liking to her.

Or so she thought- it turned out he had only asked her out on a dare, to prove his worth to the 'cool guys'.

After that, she stopped talking to people. Cut herself off and focused only on counting and burning her calories.

Her mom was worried. Her teachers were worried. Her tennis coach had to kick her off the team. Even her puppy had looked worried.

So she got sent to rehab.

"Ari?" Santana's voice jolted her back to the present.

Ariella sighed in exasperation.

"What?!" She snapped. "I don't really want to talk to you, Santana."

Santana sighed, as if she were expecting that to happen.

"Okay, please will you just listen to me?" Santana begged.

Ari rolled her eyes. "No," she said firmly. "I'm not gonna waste my time on someone when all they want to do is get into my pants."

Santana winced. She deserved it.

"I thought I was different," Ari whispered softly.

"What was that? Sorry, I couldn't hear you," Santana asked.

"I thought I was different. Maybe more important that the dozens of people you slept around with."

Santana stiffened at the accusation.

"Okay, I may have slept around, but it wasn't dozens," she defended herself.

"How many?" Ari asked. "Wait, nevermind. I don't think I want to know."

Santana sighed. "Seven. I'm not proud of it. Even though I act like I am, at the end of the day I do feel like a cheap slut. And I'm sorry. I know I crossed a boundary, but you were right before when you said that I don't usually do long term relationships. I don't. And I think it's because I don't value myself very much."

Ariella looked up from her painting, giving Santana her full attention.

"I'm listening." She said stiffly. Santana smiled a little, clearly encouraged by this.

"Okay," Santana took a deep breath. Then she grinned widely.

"What's so funny?" Ariella asked suspiciously.

"I'm gonna quote a movie here. But it really applies to the situation, I think."

Ariella nodded, trying not to show her curiosity.

"We accept the love we think we deserve," Santana said with a smile.

Despite her anger, Ariella giggled.

_The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Nice. _

"But in all seriousness," Santana continued, "I'm really scared, Ari, to be in a healthy relationship because I've never done it before. Sex, though... I'm kind of an expert. And I mean it in the nicest way possible when I say that you're the opposite."

Ari rolled her eyes but allowed the other girl to continue.

"So... I guess what I'm saying is that I'm sorry. I'm very, very sorry that I made you uncomfortable. But I also need you to understand that all of the romantic stuff makes me kind of uncomfortable, so I'm gonna need you to be patient. That said, I promise never to cross a boundary like that again, and if I do, then you have the right to break up with me, publicly humiliate me, and send me threatening text messages. And if I ever make you uncomfortable, tell me right away and I'll listen."

Ariella nodded.

"But I swear it'll never come to that.

So," she paused, as if trying to decide what to say, "I'm asking you to forgive me."

Silence followed for a moment. Ari turned toward the window, quietly watching the weather outside.

_It had stopped raining. _

She spun her chair back around toward Santana.

"In response to your question," she began, and watched how Santana was hanging on to every word.

"I think that... I said torrential downpour because I like the sound of it, and the way it feels in my mouth." She smirked. "There. I answered your question."

Santana shot her a bitch glare that didn't completely disguise her look of love and adoration for the blonde.

"Answer it for real," she pleaded.

"Fine," Ari smirked, "Yes, I forgive you. And I'm sorry I called you a slut."

"Thank God," Santana breathed. "May I kiss you?" She asked.

Ari smiled, feeling the warmth return to her body. "Of course," she whispered. "Always kiss me."

Santana smiled and leaned towards her, and the two girls kissed, their lips moving softly against each others.

* * *

** Wow. I wasn't even gonna have them talk in this chapter. It was supposed to be all Klaine, I swear. **

**And then this happened. I don't even know what this is. It just occurred. Yeah guys... So I don't even know. Sorry. I really appreciated the reviews! You deserve the klaine!**

**And so I'll do the whole klaine scene sometime this weekend. Honestly I'm still kinda trying to process this chapter. **

**So yeah. **

**So yeah. **

**So. **

**Yeah. **

**Again, I don't even know what this is. **

**Sorry. Hope you enjoy it anyway. **

**- Luna. **


	22. Chapter 22

**Please note that the rating has been changed to M. Yeah. It's about time. **

**Kurt **

Wednesday found both boys seated at the piano in the downstairs game room, Blaine showing off his near-perfect skills and Kurt trying to learn as best as he could. He hadn't taken piano lessons since he was a young child, and Blaine was trying to give him a mini lesson.

"No, love, that should be an A flat," he explained patiently. Kurt rolled his eyes. "We've been doing this for half an hour. Can't we do something else?"

"Practice makes perfect!" Blaine said cheerfully, poking Kurt in the ribs. Kurt flinched away and ended up sliding right off the piano bench and onto his ass.

"Not funny, you idiot," he muttered, getting back up.

Blaine grinned. "You know it was. Now, put your right hand back into D position," Blaine tried to proceed, but Kurt interrupted him.

"Blaine, as much as I love this song,"

He glanced at the title and smiled a little, the Sound of Music was one of his all time favorites, "Isn't there something... Else, we could do?"

Blaine frowned. "Stop trying to quit! Would you like to try an easier song? I think the fingering on I'm Not That Girl is a little easier-"

"No." Kurt said firmly. "Come on, isn't there _anything_ you'd rather do?"

"No." Blaine pouted adorably. "Nothing is better than piano, Kurt, nothing."

Kurt rolled his eyes. His boyfriend was missing the point. He sighed. "Sex, Blaine," he said clearly, as if speaking to a small child. "Sex is _much better_ than piano."

"Oh." Blaine's eyes went a little wide and his fingers froze on the keys.

"Yeah, you're right. Sex is slightly better than piano."

Kurt smirked. "We could always combine the experience, and have sex ON the piano..." He trailed off suggestively.

"Really?!" Blaine half-shouted.

"No, silly," Kurt said. "It's an upright piano."

This did nothing to calm Blaine down. He was now imagining Kurt in several different positions, laying across a grand piano...

"Okay," Blaine decided quickly. "What do you wanna do? Cause I definitely don't wanna push you too far or anything..." He trailed off worriedly.

Kurt frowned. "Since when are you worried about pushing me too far? I thought we had a pretty good dynamic in terms of respecting boundaries."

"Oh, just something someone said... Nevermind," he added, remembering Santana's death threats.

"Okay," Kurt said slowly. "Well, we might as well discuss them, because it's bound to come up anyway."

"Sure." Blaine nodded. "So, what are your boundaries?"

Kurt considered for a moment. "Um, what we've been doing is fine with me." He blushed a little, all traces of the coyness gone.

"Oh. Okay." Blaine looked like he was trying his best not to be disappointed.

"What about you?" Kurt asked. Now he felt rather guilty.

"I don't want you to think you have to blow me or anything when you won't let me do it in return. I wanna make you feel good, Kurt. This should be mutual. So until you're comfortable with me touching you, you're not allowed to touch me. Okay?"

Kurt sighed and shook his head. "That's not what I want.

And... If it doesn't go well, if I do something wrong or you hate it or something, I don't really wanna set myself off again."

Blaine laughed softly. "Kurt, I love you; why wouldn't I enjoy it?"

Kurt sighed. "Trust me, you won't. Nevermind, let's continue with the piano."

"Kurt, what is this about? Are you really uncomfortable with it? Because I can totally respect that, but I feel like there's something you're not telling me."

"I just... I don't know..." Kurt exhaled slowly. He did want to tell Blaine, and he did want to let Blaine... Do things... He was just scared. And he didn't want to push his luck. He figured, even if Blaine excepted the scars, it would be asking a lot for him to accept the way Kurt looked. Right?

But then he thought about it. He knew Blaine loved him, it was quite obvious.

"Oh." Kurt said suddenly. "I've realized why I don't want to let you do it. It's because I'm telling myself I don't deserve it."

"You absolutely deserve it!" Blaine exclaimed.

"I know," Kurt said in realization. "You're right, Blaine. You are absolutely right. I should be entitled to pleasure from my boyfriend. Its just a habit. One I'm trying to break." Then he smiled.

"Wanna help me break it?"

Blaine beamed at him.

"Of course. So, Kurt Hummel, can I please make you feel good?"

"Yes," Kurt said. "Yes, definitely."

"Excellent," Blaine declared, leaning forward to kiss the taller boy.

"Um, I'm gonna fall off the piano bench," Kurt warned him. "It's only like three feet long, you know."

"Ok. Couch. Now," Blaine managed.

But they didn't make it quite that far. Instead, they sort of fell backwards onto the (fortunately thick) carpet, Kurt spreading his legs as far as his already very tight skinny jeans would allow. Blaine kneeled in between them, kissing Kurt hungrily. Their tongues fought against one another passionately, and Kurt couldn't help but smile. He did deserve to be happy. He was a good person.

"I want you," Kurt murmured against Blaine's lips. Blaine kissed him roughly, and then pulled back. "Alright." Blaine said. "Clothes off."

Kurt grinned. He was a teenage boy. He was allowed to enjoy this.

This was gonna be fun.

* * *

Blaine sank his mouth down over the head of Kurt's cock again, and the only words that could describe what he was currently feeling were definitely not

G-Rated.

The were probably something close to: fuck, Blaine, more, now, faster, and OHMYGODthatfeltsogoodpleasedon'teverstop, a word that had been permanently added to his vocabulary.

Blaine swiped his tongue along the shaft, swirling it up over the head and WOW. Kurt's lips were parted, and his head was tilted back, showcasing the no less that seven hickeys across his neck and chest.

He thrust upward rythmically, much to far gone to be embarrassed at the fact that he was fucking Blaine's mouth.

But then Blaine pulled off with a soft popping sound, and Kurt was going to kill him.

"No fair, you fucking tease," he growled.

Blaine's eyebrows rose and he smirked. "Watch your language."

Kurt smiled back. "Fuck you. Now get your mouth back on my dick, right away."

"Actually, before we continue, I was wondering if I could maybe finger you?"

Blaine's words hung in the air for a moment. And then-

"Yes." Kurt nodded furiously. "Do anything you want. Love you, Blaine."

Blaine smiled, looking quite pleased with himself for suggesting it.

Blaine slipped two fingers into his mouth, sucking on them and getting them thoroughly wet before sliding them back out.

He slid one gently over Kurt's entrance and he moaned, arching his back up off of the floor.

"Have you ever touched yourself there before?" Blaine asked curiously.

Kurt blushed. "Of course I've touched myself there. I do have a life, you know."

Blaine grinned. "That is _so fucking hot._"

Kurt was about to form a witty response but couldn't really think of one because at that moment, Blaine slipped a finger inside.

"Ohhhh," Kurt moaned softly. That feels... so good... AHH, FUCK Blaine!" He shouted. Blaine smiled, thrusting his finger in at a sharper angle, hitting Kurt's prostate and basically rendering him incapable of coherent speech.

"Can I add another?" Blaine asked, and Kurt nodded furiously.

Blaine did so, and it was painful, sure, but that was nothing compared to the feeling when he scissored his fingers, hitting the bundle of nerves again.

"Blaine, _please_," Kurt moaned. He arched himself toward Blaine's fingers, trying to get them even deeper.

"It's okay, love," Blaine said softly.

He stroked Kurt's cock a few more times and then he was coming, his orgasm hitting him so hard that his vision blurred.

* * *

After Kurt regained enough energy and returned the favor, minus the fingering (he wasn't _that_ confident yet), the boys snuck back up to Blaine's bedroom and laid together, talking about random things.

Blaine looked deep in thought. He bit his bottom lip anxiously, stroking Kurt's wrist absentmindedly at the same time. It had become a habit of sorts, an unspoken gesture of "I love you" that reassured each boy of the other's presence.

"I was thinking," Blaine began, "That I want to talk to you about something."

He looked up at Kurt expectantly. "Okay. What?" Kurt asked, trying to keep the nervous edge out of his voice. "Are you breaking up with me? Because if you are, you should wait until after therapy today. I don't really want to be labeled with hysteria or anything else for that matter. Also, we just had amazing sex."

He glanced at Blaine, only half-joking. Blaine shook his head immediately. "No, love, not at all. Definitely not." Kurt relaxed and Blaine swept him into a hug, which was kind of awkward in their current position but felt good all the same.

"So," Kurt said, his voice considerably lighter, "What do you wanna talk about?"

Blaine deliberated for a moment.

"Me." He said finally. "More specifically, why I'm here. There are a few things you need to know about me."

"Okay." Kurt nodded, shifting his body so that he was lying facing his boyfriend. "Lights, camera, action!" He joked feebly.

Blaine gave a sad attempt at a half-smile, and both boys knew that the upcoming conversation would be an unpleasant one.

"So, for starters," Blaine said, "I haven't told you very much about my family."

"I know," Kurt nodded, "I was wondering about that but I figured you would bring them up if you needed to."

Blaine smiled and squeezed his hand. "Yeah, well. So, I know I haven't told you before, but I was actually bullied quite a bit, same as you."

Kurt's eyes widened as he laced their fingers together.

"And that's when I began to develop the OCD. I guess I was in about... Eight or ninth grade..."

Kurt nodded. "When I started cutting."

Blaine squeezed his hand and continued. "Yes. It was just your average stuff, really; parents got a divorce, dad got custody as well as a Barbie-doll trophy wife.

But I was only seeing my mom once a month, because after she found out about the affair she threw herself into her work.

Anyway, the real problem was school. My grades were good, I tried my best, but I wasn't very athletic. I was also into singing and musical theatre... People began to realize I was gay. I had only just realized it myself.

And then when I got home at the end of the day, I had to deal with Luke and Jason."

"Who are they?" Kurt asked.

Blaine sighed. "Cassie's sons. Ages thirteen and sixteen. Both very popular. Luke was the quarterback and was clearly my father's favorite. The son he always wanted. And he thinks Jason's great too.

When Luke and his friends beat me up, my father had no sympathy. I was a disgrace. Nevermind the fact that he had an affair. I was a disgrace for getting _beat up._

You following so far?"

Kurt nodded wordlessly.

"Now that brings us to why I'm here. As you probably noticed, my OCD is hardly noticeable, let alone severe enough to need treatment."

Kurt thought about that. Huh. He kind of just took Blaine's presence for granted. Didn't really consider he odd it was that Blaine had been there for months.

"It's kind of turned into a vicious cycle lately. At first, I exaggerated it in hopes that they would send me away- I was sick of living in that house with those people. That's when they did send me away for the first time. But it became something more... I was put into a new place, and without the stress of my home environment I didn't even develop any routines. I felt better than I had in ages."

"The doctors noticed this. The first thing my therapist said to me was 'That's it? You're only here for mild OCD?"

"So they were going to send me home after a week. And then they didn't. I overheard the staff taking one day. It turns out my father was paying them to keep me here. Much more than the actual cost of treatment, and insurance covers part of that anyway. It's probably against the law, but from the sound of it, he gave them at least several thousand dollars."

Kurt felt the urge to hug the shorter boy, and he did so. "Oh, Blaine," be whispered. "That's awful."

Blaine shrugged. It still hurt, but by now he kind of accepted it.

"Since I was here, they continued giving me therapy. And I guess they must have felt like it was ok to take the money, because I did start to get worse after that. And I did need treatment, because I realized that I had absolutely no control over where they put me. My own family. That went on for about six weeks, until school started in the fall. That's when they sent me to Dalton, the boarding school where I attend for most of the year. Out of sight, out of mind... "

He sighed.

"And the next summer, same thing. I got home, and the only thing my father said to me was "Still a fag?" I told him yes; I would always be gay. And he told me I had better go pack.

I'll never forget the way Cassie smiled at him, like it was some great victory. 'Yay! He's gone! Now we can pretend to be a perfect family!'"

"The boys high-fived each other, happy that they would no longer be associated with the gay boy. God forbid their image be less than that of a popular, straight football player."

Kurt was horrified. He though he had had it bad... When all along, there was so much he could have done. So many good memories he could've made. And instead he cut himself off from everything and everyone, good and bad.

"Last Christmas break, my dad really made an effort to turn me straight. He thought that maybe since the OCD was starting to to away, so was the gay. He tried to make me build a car with him. But obviously it didn't work. We both froze our asses off, and when we were done all we had was a car and a whole lot of hate. We loathed each other, and we still do."

"And in a sense, it's the same: we both hate something that the other can't change. Because really, my dad can't change his views on gay people. Not when he won't try."

"Long story short, we got into a huge fight, and eventually my dad decided I didn't deserve Dalton; that it was making me 'gayer' and that maybe more therapy would help cure me. Clearly, his reasoning skills aren't the best. So I got sent here. I'm taking classes online. I made some great friends. And then I met you."

The silence that followed seemed very heavy.

Kurt wanted to cry, having to watch his boyfriend hurt so much. And Blaine had been so patient, so understanding when Kurt told him about his own issues.

"I love you, Blaine Anderson," Kurt whispered softly.

He felt something damp on the side of his face and realized he was crying. There were no words to express how sorry he felt for Blaine. Blaine was his everything. But he was his family's nothing.

"I love you, too," Blaine said, his voice breaking.

The two teens wrapped their arms around each other while they quietly cried, and didn't let go for a long time.

* * *

**Okay. I know it got sad at the end, but that's just the reality of Blaine's life. Both the boys are incredibly strong in different ways; Kurt for making a huge effort to get better and Blaine for staying positive and being there for Kurt despite his hard family life. **

**Anyway, sexy klaine sex. You're welcome. **

**;D Luna**

**P.S The next chapter will be sometime next week. Only a few more chapters to go! And reviews, favorites and follows keep me motivated. But you know that already. **


	23. Chapter 23

**Okay, hi. Yes, I'm still alive. I've been terribly busy lately, and my birthday is coming up this week. apologize for the wait, but... That's life. I still have a lot planned for this story... And with school starting in a few days as well, I'm not sure when I'll have the time to write. But I promise to have this story finished by mid to late September, worst case scenario. Best case scenario... Also mid to late September, actually. Also, I am aware this is plotless smut. I haven't finished the next half of the chapter yet, so I decided to just post this whole you wait. **

**Yeah. **

**-Luna is exhausted from dancing all last week **

* * *

**Blaine**

The next morning, the boys woke up together, having fallen asleep in Blaine's bed the night before.

Blaine smirked and he raised his head off the pillow. "Hey, sexy. Ready for round two?"

"Oh, shut up," Kurt mumbled into his pillow. "'S too early. Maybe later."

"Really?" Blaine sat up. "Like, really?"

Kurt groaned. "Please, let me sleep..."

"No." Blaine pouted. "Did you mean it?"

Kurt sighed in exasperation. He wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep now.

"Fine, Blaine. We both have group therapy, and I kind of wanted to go swimming... But yes, after that, we can have crazy, kinky sex for hours." He joked.

"Holy fuck, you can't just say things like that!" Blaine exclaimed.

"God, now I'm hard. Thanks a lot, you tease."

Kurt smirked. "I guess you'll have to figure that out on you own," Kurt giggled, "Cause I'm going to go take a shower." With a seductive wink, he slipped out of bed and walked into the bathroom, flicking the lights on and shutting the door.

Blaine sighed. He had two options. He could either stay here, and jerk himself off like some boyfriend-less loser, or he could follow Kurt in there and initiate a blow job.

He figured the latter would be much more enjoyable for both of them.

He waited until he heard the water running, and then he slid out of bed, stretching as he walked toward the bathroom. He slipped off his T-shirt and boxers, leaving them outside the door as he opened the door slowly.

He tiptoed across the white tile toward the shower, trying to suppress his laughter as he pictured the look on Kurt's face. _Well_, Blaine thought, _he should expect this if he was going to be so damn sexy. _

He yanked back the curtain, earning a shriek from Kurt. His eyes raked Kurt's entire body, and he was naked, and wet, and-

"Blaine Anderson, I will personally _kill_ you," Kurt declared, narrowing his eyes.

Blaine glanced at Kurt's fully erect dick, and then back up to his eyes.

"Kurt, were you touching yourself?"

"I, no- shut up," Kurt stammered, blushing furiously.

Blaine arched an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Well, you didn't have to walk in," Kurt said, but Blaine could tell he wasn't really angry.

"You know, you don't have to do that alone. I could help you, babe," Blaine said suggestively. Kurt frowned in mock disapproval.

"Come on. Admit it, you want me to join you." Blaine smiled, knowing he was right.

Kurt rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically. "I couldn't care less if you joined me," he said.

Blaine smirked. "Uh huh," he said, reaching out and sliding his hand over Kurt's chest, sliding his thumb across one of the nipples.

"Ohh," Kurt tipped his head back against the shower wall.

"Fine, you can, AH," Blaine trailed his fingers across his cock, "Join me. GOD, Blaine!"

Blaine grinned, feeling victorious as he stepped into the shower. It was rather spacious, which could come in handy later.

"Hello, love." He kissed Kurt hungrily. "Thank you for listening last night. And I loved waking up with you."

He smiled, kissing along Kurt's jawline as the hot water cascaded over them. "I think I could get used to that," he added, sucking a hickey onto Kurt's pulse point.

"Ohh," Kurt moaned softly, tilting his head back further to allow Blaine better access.

"Please, Blaine," he sighed. "Touch me, now," he grabbed Blaine's hand, placing it on his cock.

"I love you, Kurt Hummel," he kissed his forehead sweetly.

"That's nice, but I fucking need you right now," Kurt whimpered, thrusting forward into Blaine's hand.

"Fine," Blaine started jerking him off roughly.

"Ah, shit, Blaine," Kurt sighed, "as much as I'm, ohh, en-enjoying this, I think we should, ahh, come at the same time. It's b-better that way.

"Alright," Blaine agreed.

He placed his hands on Kurt's hips, gripping them firmly enough to leave bruises but he couldn't bring himself to care.

He thrust roughly against Kurt, who thrust up to meet him and yeah, he was completely in love with this boy. Kurt looked absolutely stunning, head tilted back, eyelashes fluttering, rivulets of water making their way down his body. Blaine leaned in to kiss him passionately, grinding their hips together as he did so.

Kurt met his thrusts eagerly, the water pelting down across his face as his breathing grew more and more unsteady.

Kurt was moaning loudly (both boys knew he had wanted this shower sex sneak attack after all), reaching down and pumping both their cocks simultaneously. It wasn't long until both boys were coming, hard, the water washing everything away as Kurt stroked him through his orgasm.

"Way to distract me," Kurt muttered after a moment, shoving Blaine playfully. "I still have to shampoo my hair. And then style it, which will take at least thirty minutes... We're going to be late for breakfast, and it's your fault, you asshole." He pretended to be highly affronted.

Blaine just laughed, kissing him again as he reached for the shampoo bottle.

* * *

**K. Bye. For now. **

**-Luna**


	24. Chapter 24

**Hello, folks. Lets hear it for the longest chapter ever! Have a box of tissues ready for this one. **

**Warning: no spoilers, but this is M rated for a reason. Proceed with extreme caution. **

* * *

**Ariella **

Ariella could hardly contain herself. Four more days and she would be leaving, returning to her home and her family. If a mom and a puppy counted as a family. Coming home also meant being reunited with her piano, and starting voice lessons again with her old teacher, Faith.

She would have freedom again- she hadn't left the Lehman Center in months. It got rather boring rather fast, even with a pool and a game room.

She would get to use her good charcoals, instead of the cheap donated ones that they had in the artroom. And she was going to a new school in the fall, a private school for gifted students with an excellent music program. She wasn't quite sure what she wanted to choose as a profession yet, but she lately she had been thinking about teaching music education. Maybe even to recovery patients like herself.

And she had recovered. Sure, old habits die hard- she still cringed slightly when she bit into a croissant or a muffin. But she would take a deep breath, close her eyes, and remember what she had realized: she was beautiful. She wasn't fat. And yet she wasn't stick-thin either.

She was healthy.

She smiled to herself as she unlocked her iPod, scrolling through her playlists and clicking on Demi Lovato's latest album.

* * *

**Kurt**

Sex with Blaine was a lot of fun. Truly, it was.

But so was talking, and watching movies on Blaine's laptop while Blaine ran his fingers back and forth over Kurt's arms, his chest, his abdomen... and lower...

And yesterday, when Santana and Ari mysteriously disappeared into Santana's room for a while, they decided to take a swim in the pool. They planned to see Catching Fire when it came out in November. They planned to get ice cream from Kurt's favorite place, now that the weather was getting warmer. Blaine told Kurt was going to leave the treatment center. The shorter boy had been stuck here for five months straight. Kurt couldn't even begin to imagine his situation.

Blaine planned to ask his parents if he could stay with Ariella for the summer. She lived relatively close to Kurt, and god knows Blaine's dad would be happy to get rid of him. And Kurt would undoubtedly be leaving soon, too. They were going to go on dates multiple times a week. This was going to work- as long as Blaine got permission from his parents.

That was the tricky part.

* * *

**Blaine**

Blaine allowed himself one more deep, steadying breath before hitting Call on his phone. Too late to rethink it now. He leaned back against the pillows with a sigh.

The phone rang once, twice, three times. Nothing. It rang again. Blaine was about to hang up, and then-

"You have reached the office of Walter J Anderson. How may I help you?"

It was his dad. Blaine had called his dad's cell number, and he knew his father had caller ID. That meant that he didn't have Blaine's number in his phone. He took a deep breath.

"Hi, dad. It's me."

His father was silent for a moment. "Blaine? Why are you calling me at this hour?" He sounded angry.

"I was wondering if you had any intention of letting me leave, or if you're going to let me rot here for the rest of my life."_ I might_

_as well be direct,_ Blaine thought.

The other end of the line was silent save for the quiet sounds of his father breathing. Finally he spoke.

"You can come home when you are cured or when Dalton starts in the fall, whichever comes first."

Blaine gritted his teeth together. "Cured of what, the OCD or the gay?" He almost didn't want to hear the answer.

His father chuckled humorlessly. "Ideally, both. But if I had to choose, I would want you to be cured of the queer habits you seem to have developed. They aren't natural."

Blaine rubbed his thumb and forefinger together anxiously. This was not going well.

"You know the my answer to that, dad. While the OCD is a medical condition, being gay is not. There is no 'cure,'" Blaine exhaled loudly.

"Well, if you refuse to accept treatment then you're going to be there for a very long while.

"Okay, dad; obviously the 'treatment' is not working. So why don't you just save your money and let me leave?"

"How dare you accuse me of giving illegal money to the treatment center! Blaine Devon Anderson, I did not raise you to be so insolent!"

Blaine pounded his fist against the bedspread. "I know you're paying them extra under the table to keep me here! But it's not necessary. If you actually took the time out of your incredibly busy day to check up on me once and a while, you would see that I am doing okay. Great, in fact. So if you would just listen to me I would really appreciate it."

His father didn't respond.

"I made friends with a girl here. That's right, dad, a girl," he sneered, before the man could interrupt. "She offered to let me stay with her for the summer. And if you'll sign the forms, I would like to leave when she does next week. You'll never be bothered by me again." Blaine finished his speech, his breathing heavy and his heart racing.

His father said nothing for a full minute. To Blaine, it felt like hours.

"Fine," Walter said eventually. "Maybe living with a girl will do you some good. I'll fax over the release papers tomorrow."

Blaine couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Thank you, dad. I really appreciate it."

His father sighed loudly.

"I have work to do. Goodbye, Blaine."

And with that, Blaine hit End Call before his father could, because he was the one in control of his life.

He fell asleep that night with a big smile on face.

* * *

**Kurt**

Kurt had finally come to terms with his cutting.

He had been more and more vocal in group therapy than before, and it was actually helping him a bit. He had also spent his fair share of nights awake thinking it over. It was very hot out lately; he would have had a hard time sleeping anyway.

He thought of his dad, who really did want the best for him. He realized for the first time that, while his mother's death affected him very deeply, it had affected his father even more. He just hadn't shown it.

He thought of his mother, who, although she was no more than a few memories now, was kind and loving and honest and thoughtful, and wouldn't have wanted to see Kurt like this. Would have told him "I love you," and wouldn't have judged him. Would have listened.

Elizabeth would have done everything Blaine did.

Now that it felt less like rubbing salt on an open wound, Kurt allowed himself to think of how he used to feel.

Often he would have spent time thinking about ways to die; which were the least painless and which would be the least devastating to his family. He could make it look like an accident, he supposed, crash a car or alcohol poisoning or something else. Swallowing pills seemed pretty appealing.

But he hadn't. Something had kept him going, kept him clinging to life:

What If.

What if he was only a week away from meeting the love of his life? What if he was gonna grow up to be on Broadway? What if he made it out of Ohio, saw the world, and fell in love with the city?

Nothing could happen if he was dead, and so the sheer prospect of missing out, ending the story before it got good, had kept him alive.

Until Blaine.

Blaine, who had come into his life in the strangest of ways and yet fit inexplicably, as if he had been there all along.

Blaine, the boy whom he loved with more passion and heart than ever.

Kurt was healing.

Kurt was going to sing again.

He was going to go to France someday, and he was going to live in New York, and Blaine was going to be right there with him.

Seven p.m. the next evening found both boys shirtless in the game room, kissing and groping and just enjoying each others presence.

"Blaine?" Kurt interrupted the kissing. "I can't believe your dad said yes. You're so incredibly brave."

"Not as brave as you," Blaine replied, tracing his thumb over one of Kurt's hickeys.

Kurt sighed, relaxing into his touch. "I love you, Blaine."

Blaine smiled. "I love you too."

Kurt took a deep breath. This was it. This was his chance. He loved Blaine with all of his soul, and he knew Blaine wasn't going to leave him. Most importantly, he knew he deserved to feel good. He deserved the feelings of love and intense pleasure that this would surely bring.

"Will you blow me?"

Blaine's eyes widened but he nodded wordlessly, starting to remove Kurt's pants. Then he paused. "Are you sure this is okay with you?"

"Yes." Kurt answered breathlessly. His whole body was practically trembling with anticipation.

"Good," Blaine replied. "You have no idea how much I wanted to do this. I wanna make you feel good. I love you, so, so, so-"

"Blaine, shut up and blow me already!" Kurt shouted. Then he giggled in embarrassment at what he just said.

This was exciting. Possibly more exciting than designer clothes.

Okay, much more exciting.

Blaine smiled sheepishly but nodded, continuing to remove the rest of Kurt's clothing.

"Gorgeous," he whispered softly, running his fingers across Kurt's chest and stomach. He settled himself between Kurt's legs, smiling slightly as he looked up at Kurt.

"Calm down, love. You're practically hyperventilating."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but he knew Blaine was right- he did need to calm down. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, and then-

"Ohhh, fuck!" He shouted. Blaine had swiped his tongue up the length of Kurt's cock, and OHMYGODthatfeltsogoodpleasedon'teverstop.

Yeah, that pretty much summed up his feelings right now. They should add 'OHMYGODthatfeltsogood-pleasedon'teverstop' to the dictionary.

_Oh, wow_.

Kurt moaned softly as Blaine took him into his mouth completely, and wasn't he going to choke? But he didn't, dragging his lips slowly up his length and then sinking back down again.

Oh, oh, _oh_, he she have suggested this sooner. And Blaine seemed to be enjoying it as well. That was where his ability to think clearly ended.

Blaine swiped his tongue over he head of his dick while he pumped the rest firmly in his hand, and Kurt was probably making a variety of embarrassing noises but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Ahhhh, mm, Blaine!" Kurt gasped as he came violently, Blaine swallowing around him.

Both were too absorbed in what they were doing to hear the door swing open, accompanied by the sharp clicking of heels as they slowly descended the stairs.

They heard someone cleaning their throat in annoyance and both looked up sharply. This only resulted in Kurt banging his head on the arm of the couch behind him, his dick sliding out of Blaine's mouth in a rather embarrassing way.

Standing there was Doctor Jennings, Ariella's therapist from hell. She stared down at the boys in shock, looking as though she was unsure if she should be embarrassed or furious. She settled on furious.

"WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS GOING ON DOWN HERE?!" She screeched, breathily heavily. She was fuming with rage, seeming as though she might punch whatever was closest to her. It happened to be the wall.

Both boys were frozen in shock; Blaine's face flushed bright red and Kurt's got even paler, something which Blaine would have never thought possible.

The woman opened and closed her mouth several times, too angry for words.

"I cannot believe that you boys would engage in such scandalous behavior in a public setting! This is absolutely outrageous- I will be contacting your parents- disgusting!" She shrieked.

She took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm down, her hands shaking slightly.

Other than that, no one moved.

Several seconds passed.

"Alright," she said, her voice somewhat more level, "You have two minutes to get dressed. I will be waiting outside. After that, you will wait in you rooms, separately, until we are finished speaking with your parents. They can decide how to split the cost of reupholstering the couch."

And with that she turned and marched up the stairs as quickly as her shoes would allow.

Kurt had to remind himself how to breathe properly. He couldn't even look at Blaine, he was so embarrassed. Slowly, he sat up, staring unblinkingly at the wall as he retrieved his clothing.

He buttoned his shirt slowly, not moving anymore than was necessary.

Wordlessly, he slipped on his pants, zipped them up and started up the stairs without a word.

"Kurt- wait! It's gonna be okay! I'm really sorry- Kurt!"

Blaine tried to plead with him, but Kurt couldn't handle it right now. He had just given up something he could never get back, let his boyfriend do something he never would have trusted someone else to. He knew, even in his stunned state of mind, that he had worked hard. Worked hard to realize just how much Blaine cared for him, just how much he, Kurt, mattered, just how special he was. Blaine had helped him with some of that, but most of it he had had to realize on his own.

And now look what happened. He shouldn't be gay. It was wrong, clearly, seeing as though whatever god there might be had decided this should happen to him. He knew that he was thinking irrationally, but this sure felt like punishment. He wanted to see it from Blaine's perspective, wanted to think, _oh, it'll be a funny story later on, _but he couldn't.

He was in trouble. His dad was gonna have to pay for the couch. Blaine was gonna get in trouble. The thought felt like a knife slowly being twisted into his gut. He felt sick, but at the same time he felt... Removed. As though this were a dream, as though it happened to someone else. As though he was watching it from an outsider's perspective. Because this couldn't really be happening to him.

It was too painful.

Kurt trudged up to him room, ignoring the accusatory glare from Dr. Jennings, as well as an unfamiliar nurse next to her. Soon everyone would know about this; would hear about the gay guys who were so desperate they had oral sex in the game room. It was pathetic. It was beneath him; such promiscuous behavior. What had he been thinking?

He unlocked the door and slipped inside, not even bothering to shit the door behind him. He flicked on the lights in the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He felt empty, as if someone had scraped out his insides with a metal spoon and filled them with ice water.

The downside to being so empty was that the thoughts had more room to expand that way, swirling around at the base of his skull.

_You are hated. Worthless. Wrong. Ugly. Pathetic. A failure. Pointless._

Everything was spinning.

Kurt Hummel felt dizzy. Nauseous. The lights felt brighter, sharper.

Sharp. Sharp was good.

He buried his face in his hands, harsh sobs emanating from his lungs. Blinded by his tears, he sat down on the cold, hard tile floor. Then he stood up again, quickly enough that his vision blurred a little. It was like his body was on autopilot. Without taking time to fully think about what he was doing, he was smashing a nearby glass against the edge of the sink, picking up a large shard from the bowl. He dig it viciously into his left arm, cringing as it reopened a recently healed cut. Shaking violently, he pulled it away and dropped it in the sink.

Blood trickled off of it, blossoming in the water at the bottom of the sink. Kurt kept sobbing brokenly until he could no longer ignore the pain in his wrist. He looked down, and was horrified by what he saw. Blood dripped down the sides of his arm. It looked pretty deep; certainly one of the deepest he had ever done. It made him sick to think about. It was flowing freely though, which meant he luckily hasn't cut in to an artery.

He grabbed a nearby towel, holding it to his arm to staunch the bleeding. This pain didn't feel good; it felt wrong. He could have talked to Blaine. This couldn't be as bad as it felt. This was unnecessary. He dropped to his knees, leaning over to press the emergency button.

Then he turned and threw up into the toilet.

* * *

**Gina**

Oh, the emergency staff assist button. We installed those in case of, well, emergencies. They rarely ever happened around here, not since I started working at least. They were really more of a precaution than anything else.

They have them in hospital bathrooms too, homes for the elderly and such. In case you fall and hurt yourself, maybe slipping as you step out of the shower.

And on a darker note, there _are_ plenty of suicidal kids around here. It makes me sad to see all of them suffering, seeking pain and believing they deserve it. One of the worse aspects of this job.

I can't say I really understand the motivation. Sure, I've read it in countless textbooks. I do have a master's degree. But I've never experienced it myself.

Anyway, if theres one thing I'm certain of, its that no kid would ever press the button unless they changed their mind. Unless they realized that they wanted to live. Kids who are strong, who have the courage to fight, those are the kids who press the buttons.

One might press the button after downing a handful of stolen pills, or drinking hairspray (don't ask- it _has_ happened before), or after sticking your wet finger in an electric socket, or cutting deep enough to hit a vein. We try to prevent that as much as possible. We can't count on everyone being brave enough to press that button.

That little red button, only the size of a quarter, gives you a chance. By pressing that button, you may well have saved your own life.

Many people attempt suicide, but only a rare few will have the courage push the little red button.

So on some level I can't say that I was surprised when we received an emergency alert from Kurt Hummel's room.

**To be continued**

* * *

**#nohate #imsorry**

**So... This has been in the works for a while. Now it's happening. Can't make any promises :'( **

**I own nothing. all rights to Fox for creating Santana and Klaine. Everything else is mine :) **

**Story is almost done. I'll upstate when I can, but school is getting in the way. **

**Bye for now**

**- Luna**


	25. Chapter 25

**Patient: Kurt E. Hummel**

**Male **

**DOB 5-17-96**

**Dr. Mason**

**Allergies: None**

Everything was sort of hazy for a while. He got the feeling he had been drifting in and out of consciousness for some time- he remembered sort of falling sideways, catching himself on the edge on the sink, and blood. Far too much blood.

He opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light.

Blaine. Where was Blaine?

Squinting, he tried to sit up. His right arm was tingling; it had probably fallen asleep.

And his left arm...

"Ah!" He gasped, wincing at the pain that shot up his wrist. It was covered with a thick layer of white gauze.

How badly was he hurt? He looked around. He was clearly in a hospital.

He wanted to get up and ask where the hell he was, but there was an IV in his right arm, supplying him with a dark red liquid.

Oh. Blood.

He heard whispering from around the curtain that sectioned off his room.

"He's awake."

"Yes, of course."

"Stable. Okay, I will."

A short blonde nurse, barely older than college age came striding into his room.

"Hey, you're awake."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "No shit."

She smiled, ignoring his tone. "Want a brief overview on what happened?"

Kurt nodded.

"Okay. Well, my name is Amber, first of all. What do you want to know?"

"How long have I been here?" Kurt asked.

"Since yesterday. We had to drug you a little bit. Sorry, not my decision."

Kurt nodded, burying his annoyance for the time being.

"Where is this hospital exactly?"

"Right down the street from the Lehman Center, where you were staying before."

Kurt nodded again.

"How bad is my arm?"

"I've seen much worse. You're gonna be fine, you'll probably only have a scar."

Kurt nodded for the third time. The scar he would learn to accept. He was more concerned with how everyone else was doing. Did his father and Carole know? And Blaine?

"...However, we do have to place you on 72-hour suicide watch."

Kurt froze. "Excuse me?"

She smiled at him sadly. "It's our job to make sure you're safe."

_What the hell? _"I am safe!" Kurt exclaimed. "I wasn't try to kill myself!"

She didn't seem to believe him. "Please lower your voice; the other patients may be sleeping. Now, I understand this may be hard for you, but-"

"I'm not suicidal!" Kurt shouted, causing her to jump backwards a little bit.

"It's okay to have these feelings, but you have to be more quiet."

_God_, Kurt thought to himself, _she was turning out to be either really naïve or a condescending bitch. _

"Listen to me," Kurt told her, his voice quieter but still furious, "I cut myself. I haven't in a while, and I regretted it the moment I did it. If my arm is okay, can I please leave? Now?"

She just shook her head sadly. "Nice try, but it isn't going to happen. I'm going to give you your medication now."

"What medication?"

"Anti-depressants, and, with the way you're acting, you've earned yourself a nice does of sedatives."

Kurt was shocked.

What the hell was wrong with her? Didn't he have legal rights here?

"I want to talk to my father. Why isn't he here?" Kurt demanded.

But he spoke too soon, because at that very moment Burt and Carole came rushing into the room.

"I'm so sorry Kurt, we just stepped out to grab some food- who are you?" He asked, staring at Amber.

She smiled cheerfully. "I'm the nurse assigned to work with this patient."

Burt just nodded, barely listening.

"How are you feeling?" He strode over to Kurt's bedside just as Finn came wandering into the room, wiping his hands on his jeans. "'M sorry- I was in the bathroom," he explained. Kurt just rolled his eyes.

Good thing those were still working, even if his arm wasn't.

"I'll go get your doctor," Amber said brightly. "I'm sorry you feel so worthless," she smiled sadly, exiting the room.

"Well, that lady's a bitch," Burt stated matter-of-factly.

"Language," Carole reprimanded, but she didn't look all that upset. "How does your arm feel?" She asked Kurt kindly.

"Sore," he replied. "What time is it?" Carole glanced at her watch. "Three thirty-seven," she answered.

"Aren't you missing work?" Kurt wondered aloud.

"Kurt, you're our first priority right now. And we aren't going to send you back to the Lehman Center. You're gonna come home."

Kurt nodded, taking it all it. _No one has even mentioned the couch yet._

"We'll stop back there to get your things, and I'm sure your boyfriend is anxious to hear how you're doing."

"Oh my god, Blaine!" Kurt exclaimed. I need to call him- can I have your phone?" He asked Burt desperately. Of course, Blaine must be worried sick- it had been last night, after all, only twenty-four hours, he was probably panicking-

"In a minute," Burt told him. "They don't allow cell phones in the ward, and your doctor should be here any minute."

Kurt frowned. He knew his father was only being reasonable, but he needed his boyfriend. Blaine calmed him down in a way that no one else could. But he couldn't give it much more thought, because a tall man in a white coat walked in and introduced himself as Kurt's doctor.

His speech was short and to the point- Kurt had sliced into a vein (Finn looked nauseous and apologized before running out of the room) and he had lost a lot of blood, and had passed out as a result, just as Kurt had suspected. He was going to be fine- there was no nerve damage, and they had removed the shards of glass from the wound- but he would probably have a lasting scar. Kurt didn't mind; he already had several, and he knew that a few scars did not make him a bad person. They just represented a struggle, one that until last night he thought he had overcame.

The doctor confirmed that he would have to stay on seventy-two hour suicide watch, but he would be allowed to go home right after. And then he stood up, shook everyone's hand and told them not to pay attention to Amber; she was an intern and nobody planned on keeping her around long-term. This earned a smile from Kurt, after which the doctor said good-bye and told them he would be back tomorrow.

* * *

After much begging and pleading, Kurt was allowed to go into the hall (with a nurse watching him, of course) and call Blaine. He dialed the number from his father's old flip phone, praying that Blaine would pick up. He did.

"Who is this?" Blaine asked, sounding confused. His voice had lost its usual cheerful quality. It now seemed dull, monotone. Kurt immediately felt guilty.

"It's me," he said softly into the receiver.

"Kurt?!" Blaine shouted.

Kurt smiled a little. "Hi. It's me."

"Oh my god Kurt, I'm so sorry, I don't know the hospital's number but I would've called, they wouldn't give it to me- are you alright?" Blaine asked in one breath.

"I'm doing alright." Kurt relaxed some more upon hearing his boyfriend's voice. "They said I cut into a vein... And I lost a lot of blood and passed out I guess. I can't really remember anything except Gina bandaging my arm... They were trying to help me walk down the stairs but I must've fainted because I don't remember anything after that. But they also said there won't be any permanent injury, so that's good. I really wish you were here."

"Me, too," Blaine said quietly. Something about his voice sounded off to Kurt. It was something he couldn't quite place, and it unnerved him.

No one said anything for a while. Kurt wasn't sure if Blaine had hung up, and then-

"I ran after you, Kurt," Blaine confessed, his voice rough (something kurt was trying to identify- had he been crying?!) as if he had been crying. "I got there after Dr. Jennings was done lecturing me. I got there too late. The doctors and nurses were trying to stop the bleeding, and there was blood- blood everywhere, Kurt..." Blaine let out a choked sob. "I didn't know if you were going to be all right or not, I thought you were gonna... There was just so much blood. You lost a lot of blood considering you were in your room for only fifteen minutes. And Doctor Reeves was yelling at me, and telling me to go to my room- they wouldn't let me see, or help- oh, Kurt," he finished, staring to cry freely.

"Shh, it's all right," Kurt soothed. "Everything's gonna be okay."

"Oh, what the hell is wrong with me?" Blaine exclaimed in anguish, making Kurt flinch a little. "I should be comforting you, not the other way around!"

"It's okay," Kurt told him honestly. "I'm the same person I was yesterday. And I'll always be there for you. Always. I'm not going anywhere."

"Me, too," Blaine said quickly. "I love you, Kurt, I love you more than anyone and I really wish I could hold you right now. When are you coming back?"

"I'm not. I'm stopping to pick up my stuff and then we're leaving. My dad's pretty pissed that I was able to cut myself while inside a supposedly child-proof psychiatric facility. I'm stuck here for seventy two hours to make sure I don't kill myself," he rolled his eyes in the direction of the nurse, "But I'll be going home after that. But it doesn't matter because you're leaving in four more days anyway," Kurt concluded.

"Right," Blaine confirmed. He sounded very distant. Maybe the reception was poor.

"I love you," he said eventually. "They're making me go to therapy in a few minutes. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Bye," Kurt said, and he reluctantly hung up.

* * *

**So here's your kinda-short little chapter... I have the next two written as well, so those should be up in a few days. And in case you didn't get it, in the beginning where I usually tell whose POV it is I instead put everything on Kurt's hospital bracelet. So yeah. Reviews are always appreciated! As are follows and favorites, too. **

**Love you guys... Story shouldn't have more than five chapters. **

**See you soon!**

**- Luna**


	26. Chapter 26

**I'm sorry, but I'm too depressed to do this anymore. This is most likely where the fic will be ending for the time being. Goodbye, Luna **


	27. Chapter 26 for real this time

**I've decided to continue. I don't know why, but I can't stop thinking about leaving this unfinished. I really wanted to give it an ending. However, I have made some changes. Brace yourselves. **

* * *

_"Kurt, I love you. I still mean everything I've ever said to you. But I think it's time for us to take a break."_

The words swirled through his mind as Burt drove them home. It was hot outside, the air conditioning on full blast as a result. The blue eyed boy shivered, wrapping his arms more tightly around his torso. His neck was starting to hurt from staring out the window for so long. But the alternative was risking eye contact with his father, so he stayed silent as they drove down the highway. It was dark outside, only the stars brave enough to permeate the inky blue sky.

Burt slowed down as they got on the off-ramp, turning left towards Lima.

The pain in Kurt's neck was bordering on extreme, so he reluctantly turned toward the front of the car. His dad locked eyes with him immediately. Kurt looked away, his face burning with shame. He had been doing so well. He hasn't been thinking clearly, and regretted cutting the moment he had done it.

Burt glanced in the rear view mirror. "Hey, buddy, you doin' okay back there?" Burt questioned, his eyes full of concern.

"Mmhm." Kurt nodded. He wasn't doing okay, not really. He was fucking pissed with himself. God, he'd been so stupid. Cutting solves nothing.

And Blaine's voice, quiet and raw and so, so genuinely apologetic, telling Kurt that he wanted to take a break rather than see their relationship go downhill. Kurt could see where he was coming from, but he loved Blaine and not only wanted him but _needed_ him. No matter how selfish it was, he wanted Blaine to stay with him.

_"You have to be able to solve your problems without me... I want you to be strong on your own. It isn't healthy to depend on another person to make you feel better... You need to be able to handle yourself before you can handle the pressures of a relationship..."_

He supposed that was true. But he also really, really needed his boyfriend.

_"And I have OCD, and, well, you don't need to be dealing with all of my shit while you should be focusing on your own... "_

Their relationship dynamic before had been working just fine. Blaine had supported him all through the recovery process, but he had learned how to heal on his own. So why the abrupt change of mind?

_"I love you..." _

_So why the hell are you leaving me?_

And then Blaine kissed him softly on the forehead and was gone, possibly forever.

He cried before he went to sleep the first night, wishing Blaine would just be there for him. That was what he needed- not space, but his boyfriend. If they still were together. But he just didn't know at this point.

**The next day **

Kurt was startled out of his reverie by the sounds of heavy footsteps descending the staircase in the Hummel home.

"Hey, Kurt. We were thinking of doing something special for your birthday this year. How does a trip to New York sound?" Burt asked, carefully gauging Kurt's reaction.

"Really?" Kurt shot up off the couch where he had been sulking for the past two hours.

Burt smiled, clearly relieved by Kurt's enthusiastic reaction. "It'd be a sort of late birthday gift, since you spent it in the hospital." Kurt frowned. Had he really forgotten his own birthday? Wow, he had.

"We were thinking of going the week after the Fourth of July. And you and Carole could see one of those broadway shoes maybe."

Kurt shot up, ignoring the pain in his wrist.

"Dad, that's less than two weeks away! We have to plan! We need a hotel, we have to buy tickets, I need new outfits-" he turned to his dad. "Where's my laptop?"

Burt grinned at his son, jerking his thumb toward toward Kurt's bedroom. He looked so proud... He didn't look like the father of a kid who had just wound up in a hospital for self-inflicted injury.

"Thanks, dad," Kurt said quietly.

And then he raced down to his room, taking the stairs two at a time.

He had a vacation to plan.

**Six days later **

Kurt absolutely didn't think of Blaine while he was planning.

They, or rather he, had picked a fairly nice hotel in the Hell's Kitchen district, and tickets were purchased for a train that would take them from

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to Grand Central Station. Unfortunately, they would have to drive nearly five hours from their house to the train station, but to Kurt it was absolutely worth it.

He fully immersed himself in planning this vacation. He forced his body out of autopilot, keeping his mind on the trip and trying his best not to focus on Blaine.

"_You need to be able to handle yourself before you can handle the pressures of a relationship..."_

_" I think it's time for us to take a break..." _

No matter how much he fought it, the words still came back to him in bits and pieces, reminding himself of the empty space in his life.

No, he wouldn't let his mind go there. Absolutely not.

/

He changed the bandages on his arm once a day, averting his eyes each time so as not to look at the cut.

It nauseated him, slightly. As it should; there was no beauty in harming yourself. Blood belonged inside your body.

In that respect, each day was easier than the last.

He called Blaine a day later, trying to explain. He left a voicemail, calmly describing how he felt about Blaine's decision. He he found it rather abrupt and unnecessary. He understood Blaine's reasons, but Blaine didn't understand what it felt like to injure yourself. He couldn't know that, truthfully, Kurt was actually feeling great. Better, in some says, since he left the Lehman center.

He was home. He got to sleep in his own bed, and cook his own food, and he was already thinking about looking at colleges while he was in New York. Senior year was approaching, whether he wanted it to or not.

He began to make plans for his future, and he would rather they included Blaine than not. Blaine's response to his voicemail was only a text message, which said "I love you. I'll think about what you said. Blaine."

And, despite the circumstances, he couldn't help but feel somewhat hopeful.

* * *

** I'm sorry to say I'm still not doing very well, but I am doing better. I've decided to finish the story, and not abandon it, but I am shortening the ending a little. 2 more chapters. And thank you for the reviews! Unfortunately I don't have time to respond to every one of you, but I truly do appreciate them. And this will end well, FYI. No worries. **

**Love you guys **

**- Luna**


	28. Chapter 27

Chpt 27

On Tuesday Kurt decided it was time to do something.

Burt was taking Carole out to lunch during his break, and Finn was going to some sort of party at Puck's house. Kurt didn't know whether or not he was invited, but he didn't feel like enduring his friends' questions, so he didn't ask. Instead, he instructed Finn to tell them that he was doing well, and he would call them and talk when he was ready.

He knew he would have to face his friends at some point, yes, but today was not the day. Not when he still had a bandage on his arm. Besides; he had only been out of the hospital for a week, and he figured he deserved a little time to himself before making his grand appearance.

He made himself some lemonade (the fact that it was now summer was just starting to sink in) and watched My Fair Lady on his laptop with the air conditioning on high.

However, he got bored after the first forty minutes, and reached for his phone, only to remember that he and Blaine weren't speaking.

He frowned, turning it over in his hand and weighing his options.

He could go to Blaine's house if he knew the address, but he didn't.

But wait- Blaine was staying with Ariella, wasn't he? Kurt quickly sent her a text asking for her address. Her reply came immediately.

**"****_Hey Kurt! My address 1352 Camera Drive. Are you coming over I hope?"! :D_**

Kurt smiled at her enthusiasm. They had been texting every now and then after he left the hospital; she seemed to be doing well. She and Blaine had left four days ago, and Santana left two days before that.

**_("We've already gotten together twice since then, LOL.")_**

_"Maybe. I need to have a word with Blaine."_

**_"Oh, I see. :( I hope you guys work it all out. I'm here to talk if you need me."_**

Kurt smiled again. She really was his closest friend, after Blaine, of course. If he and Blaine were even an item anymore.

_"How's Blaine doing, btw?"_ he texted, trying to sound as casual as possible. He tried to ignore the fact that his hands were shaking slightly.

The reply came a minute later.

**_"Blaine's still getting all settled in, and don't him I told you this, but he's been crying himself to sleep at night; I can hear him through the wall. He really misses you."_**

Kurt inhaled sharply.

So Blaine must feel the same way he's feeling. This made no sense at all to Kurt, since he was the one who initiated the breakup.

"_Cutting right to the chase, I see. (No pun intended) Why am I not surprised? _

**_":P"_**

_"Do you think it would be alright if I talked to him?"_

**_"Of course. He's stubborn, but once he sees that staying together is what's best for you two he might change his mind. I think he's just trying to be noble."_**

Kurt rolled his eyes. Typical Blaine.

_"He won't listen to me; I left him two voice mails. There must be something I'm missing, because him wanting to "take a break" makes absolutely NO sense."_

**_"See you in half an hour."_**

_"You know me so well. Don't tell Blaine."_

**_"My lips are sealed. Best of luck."_**

* * *

**Blaine**

Blaine sighed, staring out the second floor window despondently.

Ari had a nice, medium-sized house, with a vegetable garden out back and yellow rose bushes in the front. Her mother was a sweet woman in her mid forties, and her puppy was possibly the cutest thing Blaine had ever seen. After Kurt, of course.

Oh, Kurt.

Blaine missed him terribly. After spending entire days together at Lehman, not seeing him for an entire week felt like torture. But it was probably for the best.

If Kurt was relapsing again, he couldn't be relying on Blaine for his happiness. He needed to find it himself.

"Lunch," Ari knocked softly on the door, carrying a tray of sandwiches.

Blaine have a half-hearted smile, but he knew he wasn't fooling anyone. He was MISERABLE.

He took a plate from the tray and set it on the floor next to him, sighing as he turned back to the window.

He could feel Ari's eyes on him, but he did his best to ignore her.

It wasn't working.

He turned to face her. "What?" He asked, annoyed.

She smirked. "Nothing. Do you have any plans for later today?"

Blaine frowned. "No. Why?"

"Oh, no reason."

He turned back to the window. "Fine then."

"Don't give me attitude. And put your sandwich somewhere else, unless you want Magic to eat it."

Magic was Ariella's exuberant chocolate lab puppy, and she ate just about anything he could find, including Blaine's tennis shoes.

Sure enough, Magic came running into the room upon hearing her name called, making a mad dash for Blaine's sandwich.

"No, you don't!" Blaine leaned over, scooping her up before she could eat it. She wiggled around as he set her in his lap, trying to lick every possible inch of his face.

"Woah, Magic." He laughed as he held her away from his face, her tail still wagging furiously.

Ari smiled.

"I'll give you two some time alone." She teased.

The girl winked, exiting the room and shutting the door behind her.

Blaine held Magic's collar with one hand and ate his sandwich with the other, which turned out to be difficult but not impossible. The puppy was getting top big to sit on anyone's lap, but he really needed something to cuddle.

He set his plate on his floor and flipped his phone out of his pocket. Meanwhile, Magic flopped ungracefully off his lap and proceeded to lick the crumbs off of the plate. Blaine smiled sadly, petting the puppy on the head as he scrolled through his messages.

He had two voicemails from Kurt, ones he had already listened to. He sighed forlornly as he clicked on one, just for the purpose of hearing Kurt's voice.

_"Blaine, PLEASE. I need my boyfriend right now, so if that's still who you are, call me back. I can explain why I did it. _

_"I love you, Blaine Anderson. I miss you. Why won't you just talk to me? Please answer my calls. I know you're there."_

Magic flopped off his lap and trotted across the room, scratching the door in a futile attempt to get it open.

Blaine sighed, a single tear running down his face. His throat felt constricted, and he wasn't breathing evenly.

He couldn't let himself cry. His decision was for the best.

He opened the door for the puppy, who exited and promptly ran head-first into the beautiful boy standing in the entrance.

Kurt.

Magic, still a bit confused, snuck around him and ran down the stairs.

Blaine and Kurt stood there face to face, neither saying anything. Blaine drew breath sharply, trying to regain control of his emotions.

"Hey," he finally said, wincing as his voice cracked.

"Hey," Kurt replied quietly. "I was just about to knock. Can I come in?"

Blaine nodded, allowing Kurt to follow him to the bed. Blaine sat down in his chair, turning it away from the window, and Kurt sat awkwardly on the bed, crossing his legs at the ankle.

"I want to talk."

Blaine nodded; he had figured as much. Out of courtesy, he tried not to let his eyes wander toward the bandage on Kurt's left wrist.

It was very... Conspicuous. Impossible to mistake for anything other than a cut. But Kurt wasn't trying to hide it.

The taller boy took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Neither knew what to say. Finally, Kurt spoke up.

"Why?" He asked softly. "What did I do to make you break your promise?"

Blaine put his hands over his eyes. His head was starting to hurt.

"It's just what's best, given the, ah, circumstances."

Kurt's mouth twisted into a humorless smile. "You can say cutting, you know. It's easier than trying to deny it."

Blaine nodded, not really sure of how to reply.

"So," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "How have you been doing this past week and a half?"

Kurt frowned. "Well, I got caught having sex, cut myself to the extent of hospitalization, and when I came to pick up my things, my boyfriend dumped me without real explanation. So, I've had better weeks."

Blaine winced. When Kurt put it that way, he sounded very cruel.

He wished he could explain.

"Sorry," he whispered. "But I stand by my decision."

Kurt threw up his hands in exasperation. "I need you to talk to me! If we don't get back together, fine, but at least give me some sense of closure!"

Blaine winced again at the tone of Kurt's voice. "I already told you when you got out of the hospital. A relationship wouldn't be healthy for either of us right now."

Kurt narrowed his eyes angrily. "Come on, what's your real reason for leaving me? You aren't making any sense."

Blaine sighed in exasperation. "I feel guilty, Kurt! Is that what you wanted to hear?!"

Kurt shook his head in disbelief. "Blaine, that's crazy. None of this is your fault, and-"

"But it is," the dark haired boy interrupted. "I was five minutes away- _five minutes_- from preventing it. I should have just left the counselors and ran after you. If I had had any idea…" He sighed, placing his head in his hands.

"I hate myself," he declared a minute later. "You're so beautiful – I can't stand the thought of you hurting yourself, and I let it happen, just a floor above me."

"But I hurt myself many times before I met you," Kurt said gently. "This is not your fault."

Blaine still looked highly unconvinced. "But I should've been there! I should've helped you! I'm a terrible boyfriend! I just- ugh," he finished.

"'Shh, it's okay."

"But, wait- didn't you try to kill yourself?"

"No!" Kurt's eyes widened in alarm.

"Then why did you cut yourself so badly? You were healing, Kurt. I don't understand."

Kurt sighed. "It's difficult to explain, but I guess it's like – like being an alcoholic. You drink to escape your problems without really stopping to think about the damage you're inflicting on your body. And then you either choose to spend the rest of your life drinking, or you reach out for help. Sometimes, others get help for you, " He smiled slightly at the thought of his friends. "And maybe you stay sober for a year or two, and then something happens – it doesn't matter how big or small of a something, but something happens that triggers you, and you relapse.

"That doesn't mean you need to go through the whole process again. It doesn't mean that you're suddenly an alcoholic again. It just means that your willpower was put to the test, and you came out stronger person because of it."

"I suppose it's possible that you go back to the alcohol, drugs, cutting, whatever – but it's highly likely that you don't. No one said the path to recovery would easy. Basically, I would tell you if I wasn't okay, because I think we agreed to be honest with each other. I promise you that I am doing well. Not perfect, so please don't expect that, but I doubt anything will trigger me again in the near future."

"I am also being honest when I say that I really, really, miss you, Blaine Anderson. So you can either keep feeling guilty about something beyond your control, something I don't blame you for, or you can kiss me. I'm leaving it up to you." Kurt finished his speech, looking very nervous.

Blaine stared at him intensely for a moment, blinked once, and then kissed him fiercely, wrapping his arms around the taller boy's waist. They fell back onto the bed rather ungracefully, but neither boy minded, because, wow.

Blaine sighed in contentment. Every single nerve ending was on fire, and judging from his eager response, Kurt felt that way too.

The door clicked and swung open, and Ari pranced in.

"How's it go- Eww, get a room. Preferably not mine. "Ari laughed, her eyes bright. "But seriously, I'm happy for you two. Keep it PG."

And with that she strutted out of the room, a small smile of satisfaction gracing her lips.

Blaine turned his attention back to Kurt, who was currently beneath his on the bed. "I'm so sorry, beautiful," he whispered. "I thought I was doing it to help you. God, I'm an idiot."

Kurt smiled. "Yes, I'm afraid you are, but it's over now. How do you feel about make-up sex? At my house, I mean."

Blaine just laughed, kissing him once more and allowing himself to relax for the first time in days.

* * *

**Look at me! Woohoo! I'm so glad I continued. One more epilogue-type thing after this. Oh, I feel so accomplished. **

**How do you like this latest development? Review me and let me know! And Glee is tonight! Seriously, I didn't plan for this story to end right as canon Klaine are (hopefully) getting back together. These spoilers have me feeling all fangirly. **

**Thoughts on a potential Klaine marriage proposal? PM me if you wanna freak out about it. **

**Oh, and next chapter will most likely have makeup sex. Kurt and I weren't kidding. **

**Love you all so much! And I will be writing more fics in the future, so follow me if you haven't already. **

**XOXO Luna**


	29. Epilogue

**This is for you guys; anyone who's stuck with me since the very beginning. (When was that, the end of May? Wow.) it's been a very loonggg journey for me, and I feel like I've developed so much as a writer, and I'm so grateful that so many people bothered to read my story. I hope you guys enjoy this. Xoxo Luna**

* * *

**Kurt**

Four days later they packed up the car and drove down to the train station. Kurt was only hours away from the city of his dreams- he had been for his while life, technically, but it now seemed much more tangible. And he was on his way. The only thing, in fact, they could make this trip even better with the fact that his boyfriend was sitting right next to him.

After much begging and pleading on Kurt's part, Burt finally allowed Blaine to accompany them on their trip. Afterward, he cornered the boys while they were making out in the kitchen and proceeded to give Kurt one of the most embarrassing talks of his life. While Burt harangued them, he looked absolutely mortified but somehow managed to ask them if they were "using the things he bought" and "being responsible".

Blaine, ever the gentleman, was all serious nods and "Yes, of course, Sir," and even though Kurt wanted to crawl under the table and die. He was more or less surviving it, though, until Burt brought up The Couch. Apparently, the hospital staff felt guilty that Kurt had found a way to cut himself when he was supposed to be safe, and they were somewhat concerned that Burt might file a lawsuit. So they decided to drop the matter of the boys' salacious exploits, especially after Burt not-so-subtly informed them that he also held them accountable for letting Blaine and Kurt "get it on" while under their "inadequate supervision".

Then Burt allowed them to leave and Kurt started to help Blaine pack, making sure to include the condoms. Although Kurt had wanted to sink

through the floorboards, they all survived it.

And Kurt became better than ever; no longer withdrawing or becoming taciturn, even when he was hit by a bout of inexplicable sadness. Which wasn't often.

The best part of all, however, came when they arrived at the hotel. They stopped by the front desk upon entering, and the two boys were confused when they were given separate sets of room keys.

"What's going on?" Kurt asked Carole while Burt unloaded the bags from the car.

She smiled at him, and Blaine came to stand by Kurt's side, curious as well.

"You've been through a lot this year," she began. "So we've decided to let you share a room. You boys deserve to have some fun. And I reminded your father that he was a teenage too once. Besides, it's not like there's anything you haven't done before, judging from the phone call we received. Just don't break the bed," she finished with a wink, and Kurt was embarrassed beyond words. Blaine even had the decency to look ashamed; however, as soon as Carole was out of earshot, he leaned over to Kurt and whispered "I'm gonna fuck you into the mattress tonight," and Kurt shivered but told him yes, later, because they still had to go see the musical.

* * *

They had picked Wicked, and although they were seated kind of far to the right of the stage Kurt didn't care. The set alone was stunning, and when the curtain rose, he swore his heart stopped for a moment. He had Carole on one side and Blaine on the other, and even Burt had reluctantly decided to join them. They were all dressed up, Blaine was even wearing a tie, and Burt put a nice, non-flannel shirt on and everything was so classy and New York and Kurt loved the atmosphere there; bubbly and vibrant and lit up like a penny arcade*.

Then Galinda came down from above the stage in a metal circle and she might not have been Kristin but it _was _Broadway and of course she was fabulous. Kurt held his breath and squeezed Blaine's hand as the music began and Blaine squeezed back and everything was perfect.

Best of all, before even the second act Kurt was 100% certain that he would be on that stage someday, too.

Blaine and Kurt got in line for souvenirs during intermission, and Kurt was practically bouncing up and down, he was so excited.

"Calm down, beautiful," Blaine smiled, but Kurt just couldn't. He bought a poster and Blaine bought a t-shirt, and the sales lady didn't even look at them strangely, she just smiled at Kurt's enthusiasm. And even Blaine had to smile because _they were in New York and they're in love and here, that's perfectly okay. _

They even passed another gay couple on their way back into the theater, two handsome men in their late twenties, and Kurt smiled shyly and waved a little, and they grinned and waved back.

_That's gonna be us in five _years, Blaine thought giddily, and even he was bouncing slightly as they made their way back to their seats.

This was everything they have ever wanted, and as the lights came on at the end of the show Kurt had tear tracks on his face and Blaine frowned. "Are you okay, honey?" He asked, and Kurt giggled at the term of endearment. "Yes, of course, but, god, Blaine, that was so beautiful- For Good, and they say good-bye, but she gets Fiyero, and," Kurt paused to take a breath, Blaine kissed him sweetly. Burt and Carole tactfully wandered off in another direction, and when Kurt broke away he was smiling so wide his face hurt.

When they finally managed to catch a taxi, Kurt pulled out his phone and texted Ari.

"**That was so perfect. I cried. I can't wait to tell you all about it when I get back"**

Kurt texted, and Ari responded a moment later. It was kind of hard to text with only one hand, but Kurt's other hand was intertwined with Blaine's and he didn't really feel like letting go.

**_"Awesome. So happy 4 u. Hope u get laid tonight," _**Ari replied, and Kurt didn't tell her but yes, that was exactly what he would be doing.

They stepped out of the taxi rather ungracefully, and the air was warm and balmy, but thankfully the sun had gone down so it wasn't too hot.

"We should come back next year in June for the pride parade," Blaine mumbled absently, and Kurt agreed.

* * *

"Goodnight," he said to his father and Carole as they get off the elevator. Thankfully, the adults' room was on the opposite end of the hallway, so Kurt assumed it was safe to say they wouldn't hear him moaning, or the headboard smacking against the wall. Because Kurt Hummel gets what he wants, and right now he wanted Blaine.

They had to let go of each other for a moment so that Blaine could get the room key, and as soon as they entered the room Kurt clicked the lock shut.

Immediately, Blaine pressed him up against the door, kissing him fiercely.

"Jesus, Blaine, you're incorrigible." Kurt sighed.

"And your ass looks sexy in those jeans," Blaine deadpanned, staring shamelessly.

Kurt rolled his eyes in a way that was just a touch more fond than exasperated, but he allowed Blaine to kiss him, because he was a teenage boy after all, and Blaine was too damn attractive to deny.

"Fuck," Blaine moaned, breaking the kiss. Kurt was panting, his eyes alight with desire, and no one spoke for a moment, they just looked at each other.

"Bed," Kurt whispered, and Blaine nodded frantically, both boys stripping of their clothes as they went.

Blaine aided him in the removal of his shirt, which has far too many buttons (why did he have to wear the one with all the buttons?!) and they kissed roughly as they went.

"Jesus, Kurt, it's been weeks," Blaine muttered, and Kurt tried to reply but only a moan escaped his lips; Blaine had swirled his tongue around a nipple and it felt just toomuchsogood. His brain pretty much stopped processing anything but the intense jolts of pleasure shooting down his pale body.

"Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?" Blaine asked, and Kurt whimpered in reply. Blaine broke away for a moment to ask Kurt's permission before slipping off his boxers and throwing them to the floor with the rest of the clothes. He then removed his own, and Kurt allowed himself to simply stare for a moment before leaning forward to kiss the hazel eyed boy.

Their cocks brushed accidentally and even the very brief friction was enough to make them both shudder. Kurt fell forwards, positioning himself so that he was straddling Blaine's hips. Kurt paused for a moment to lace their fingers together before he leaned over to kiss Blaine once more. Their tongues met, and Kurt allowed Blaine's tongue slip into his mouth, sucking on it lightly and taking pride in the moans he was eliciting from Blaine.

He thrust his hips lightly, not nearly enough to give them the release they so desperately needed, and, feeling bold, he pulled back for a moment.

"I was wondering," he began, and even that was hard work for his lust-addled brain, "If maybe I could fuck you... Instead."

He appraised Blaine, trying his best to look casual about it when in reality his hands were shaking.

Blaine's eyes widened, then narrowed, then widened again.

"Okay," he said simply, and Kurt frowned a little in surprise.

"A-are you sure?" He asks, feeling nervous.

"Positive," Blaine says with a kind smile, and Kurt felt the lust returning. "Good," he smirked, "because I really, really want to finger you."

Blaine moans again, and Kurt smiled, pleased with himself. He leans over once more, pressing soft, feather-light kisses to Blaine's jaw, re-memorizing his body after their weeks apart.

He then positioned himself between Blaine's spread legs, kneeling on the bed in front of him. Blaine watched Kurt as he lovingly, almost reverently poured lube on his fingers, stroking Blaine's dick a free times before sliding in two fingers at once. Blaine sighed in contentment.

"You know," Blaine muttered, grinding down on Kurt's fingers, "I've loved you since the day you walked into the library. You were looking, at me like I-like I had two heads or something. But I barely noticed. Your eyes, they were- Ah!" He gasped as Kurt's fingers reached his prostate. "Six different colors, and your face was so beautiful- the most- _God, yes_,- beautiful person I'd ever seen."

Kurt smiled, touched and amused. "I remember," he smiled. "I thought you might be a lunatic, the way you looked at me, smiling even though you'd never met me. You were wearing that Avenue Q shirt," he adds a third finger, "and for some reason I was intrigued. I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Fuck," Blaine gasped as Kurt scissored his finger experimentally.

"Too much talking. I want you in me, n-now." he begged, breathing unevenly.

"Ok, honey," Kurt smiled, reaching on the nightstand for the box of condoms. He reached in and grabbed one, tossing the box on the floor. He opened in with his teeth, as he was still thrusting his fingers into Blaine's ass.

He then withdrew them, and Blaine whimpered at the loss, fisting his hands in the bedsheets.

"NOW," Blaine whined. "Jesus, Kurt."

"Okay, okay, Kurt rolled the condom onto his erection, slicking himself up with more lube than was probably necessary.

"Okay?" Kurt asked, positioning himself at Blaine's entrance.

Blaine nodded fervently.

Kurt exhaled shakily and pushed in, very slowly. Blaine tilted his head back, his hips jerking up to meet Kurt's until their bodies were flush against each other.

"Give me a minute," Blaine breathed, and Kurt nodded. He nodded, letting his hands rest against Blaine's hip ones. "I love you," Kurt breathed, leaning the last few inches to capture Blaine's mouth in a kiss. The shorter boy soon took control, thrusting his tongue against Kurt's in a way that made them both moan.

"Move, please, beautiful," Blaine groaned, kneading Kurt's ass with his hands.

"Yes, yes of course," Kurt whispered, pulling back and then thrusting into Blaine in slow, short strokes. He was about two seconds away from coming, but he kept going. It suddenly occurred to him that he was iNside Blaine- oh, hell, he was inside his gorgeous boyfriend. That made him want to fuck Blaine even harder. He thrust sharply, rhythmically, his balls slapping against Blaine's ass. "Yes," Blaine moaned, "There-harder. Ohh."

Kurt kissed him messily, his thrusts becoming less and less controlled as he felt himself coming closer to the edge. He leaned forward more, and they both gasped at the new angle. Blaine was so tight, and hot, and Kurt was falling apart in the best way possible. He looked absolutely _wrecked_.

Blaine reached down to grasp his cock, stroking once, twice, before he practically screamed. "Fuck, Kurt, Kuurttt, oh," Blaine gasped, coming suddenly. His eyes fluttered closed and his body shook with the effects of the orgasm, and Kurt could safely say that he had never seen something so beautiful in his entire life.

Kurt came soon after; the pressure was too good, too intense, to resist a second longer. He thrust into Blaine, four, quick strokes, and then he was coming, so hard his vision blurred. He slumped over on top of Blaine, breathing heavily. He could feel his heart beating wildly, adrenaline corsihg through his body. He had a brief flash of panic- the last time he had come with Blaine, it had inadvertently led to hospitalization.

But he was so much more than that, than the boy who cuts. Now he was becoming the boy who sang, the boy who laughed, the boy who loved the theatre, the boy who had a loving boyfriend.

They got cleaned up, took a brief shower together, and threw on their pairs of boxers before snuggling into bed and pulling up the covers.

"Love you," Kurt muttered with a yawn. "Oh, I'm soooo tired," Kurt mumbled sleepily.

Blaine laughed. "Post-orgasm Kurt is even more adorable than I imagined."

"Almost as fabulous as during-orgasm Kurt?" Kurt giggled, pretending to bat his eyelashes.

"Mm, yes, you're so beautiful when you come," Blaine muttered against Kurt's neck. Kurt felt his lips quirk upward into a smile.

"I could say the same for you, I suppose," Kurt teased.

Then both were silent for a few moments. The silence was pleasant rather than uncomfortable.

Kurt sighed peacefully, listening to the sound of Blaine's breathing.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked after a while.

"Hm?"

"You wanna live here after you graduate, right?"

"Yes..."

"Well," Blaine rolled onto his side to face Kurt, "Can I maybe... Come with you? And live together?"

Kurt laughed easily.

"Of course, silly! I want you with me for as long as possible," Kurt smiled, reaching over to hold hands with Blaine.

"Thought so," Blaine grinned back. "Just making sure."

"I love you," Kurt whispered, gazing into Blaine's honey-colored eyes.

Blaine leaned in to kiss him in response. It seemed there weren't adequate words to express how deeply they loved each other.

Kurt and Blaine fell asleep listening to the sounds of traffic outside, moonlight streaming in through the window. It illuminated the thin pink scar on Kurt's left wrist. It had healed. Everything was changing for the better.

* * *

* This is a reference to the song N.Y.C from Annie.

**Okay, so hopefully that was an adequate ending for you all! I know I haven't updated in forever (three week as) and I'm sorry for the wait but I wanted too make sure that this chapter was as detailed and lovely as possible. Yes, AITWOINBTS (terrible acronym right, I need to work on my titles) is finally over. **

**On a positive note, I have begun working on a new story or two. The first one is called You Can Have Manhattan and is going to be very AU, and possibly a little darker than this one but I can promise it will have a happy ending. That will probably be my Christmas gift to you all (or if you celebrate something different or nothing at all, well, you're getting a gift regardless.) **

**I am also working on what is currently a one shot but might evolve into a longer fic depending on if anyone likes it. It is called Locks And Keys. **

**So, follow/favorite me to be informed when the new fics are posted, and have a great Halloween/Thanksgiving/Autumn everybody. **

**À bientôt! **

**- Luna**


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